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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911764">Again, Anew Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseWhateverAtAll/pseuds/BecauseWhateverAtAll'>BecauseWhateverAtAll</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Regression/De-Aging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, How To Babysit An Immortal Warrior When They're Suddenly 4 Years Old, Kidnapping, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Team Bonding, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:55:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseWhateverAtAll/pseuds/BecauseWhateverAtAll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p> He took a couple more steps, then crouched down. Because improbably, distressingly, the hand he could see was very, very small. Too small to be in a place like this. “Hello?” he called out softly, even as he stuck his gun at his back. Half of his body still thrummed with the need to find his husband, but if there was- but there <i>was</i> a child here, and he couldn’t just leave that be.</p>
  <p>“Oh, what the <i>fuck</i>,” he heard Andy murmur as a head and one shoulder joined the hand, peeking around the side of the table. It was a boy, very young, maybe- it was still too dark to get a good look or see any distinguishing features- maybe just out of toddler years, four or five. Why on earth was there a child here?</p>
</blockquote>There isn't much left on this earth, after thousands of years, that they haven't experienced in one form or another. They learn, they adapt, they get through it, they keep going. Always will. But this?<p>This is new.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>394</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Took a silly trope way too seriously, yay…? Never thought I’d write one of the classic Fic Things, but a couple hundred words just for fun, just to see if I could, turned into this. I have NO idea how this is going to go. Good luck… to all of us.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
It took a supreme amount of effort just to get to the kitchen table, and Nile dropped into one of the chairs with a heavy thud. “Foods?” </p>
<p>“That’s not the plural,” Andy lectured, stirring at the stove, before actually answering. “Almost ready. Drink that while you wait.”</p>
<p>She was about to ask ‘drink what’ when she realized a bottle of water was already sitting at the exact spot she’d chosen to sit down. Collapse. Whatever. “How d’you do that?” she grumbled even as she downed the water.</p>
<p>Andy just smirked, but it was a soft, light one. She and Nicky must have had a good recon, then. Compared to Nile and Joe’s shitshow, at least. She wasn’t throwing those secretively relieved looks her way either, so she must’ve not been too worried. And hey, it’s not like Nile was anymore either, now that they were back together. Almost all back together. “Booker texted me an hour ago,” as though she’d heard Nile’s thoughts. “He’s on his way. Seems like Copley got us a nice place to hang out when this is done.”</p>
<p>“Nice,” Nile half-voiced her opinion, half-simply echoed Andy’s words as her brain started shutting down all non-essential functions.</p>
<p>Andy’s snort of laughter wasn’t all that much different from Nicky’s- fond, amused, mostly knowing things were okay for once. She placed a bowl of soup in front of Nile. “Eat. Then sleep. In that order.”</p>
<p>Nile muttered some nonsense just to be difficult, but was already shoveling a spoonful in her mouth, humming at the <em>amazing </em>taste of <em>food</em>, the most beautiful thing in the world. She nodded her thanks when Andy came back to the table, having slipped out briefly to deliver two more bowls to the back bedroom. “Recon good?”</p>
<p>Andy smirked at the way Nile was inhaling the broth. “You really able to hold a conversation right now?”</p>
<p>Nile waved her free hand. “Just talk. Keep me awake until the bowl’s empty.”</p>
<p>“Recon good,” Andy confirmed. “They know what they’re doing, that security detail, but Nicky and I managed to track them to the facility.”</p>
<p>Nile almost- almost but didn't- pause her eating. “We know where it is?” </p>
<p>They’d been after this medical research group for the past month. It had been a sort of unspoken thing between all of them the last couple years- any jobs involving medical testing, pharmaceuticals, evil scientists? Took precedence. They had a vested interest in it now, after all. </p>
<p>They were going to stop all the Merricks and Kozaks of the world.</p>
<p>This one had burned especially hard for them. Whatever research these people were doing, whatever experiments were going on, they were kidnapping people to test them on. Young people. The last three had been under eighteen, and that... none of them could stomach that. </p>
<p>While Nile and Joe tracked (and purposefully attracted the attention of) the hit squad that had been snatching people up, Nicky and Andy had been able to follow the detail guarding the scientists. Which meant that-</p>
<p>“We know where it is,” Andy had a grin of self-satisfaction, determination. “Communication between the groups is sparse, but if your new friends figure out what you were doing, they’ll be expecting a strike.”</p>
<p>“So we hit fast,” Nile said in the moment between swallowing soup and swallowing water.</p>
<p>“A few days,” she nodded. “Copley will have given Book the blueprints and some security badges to get us in. We take a day to watch, make sure they don’t know we’re coming, then we shut this shit down.” </p>
<p>Nile squinted down at the last of her soup, trying to process Andy’s words in the right order. “Good,” was what she came up with.</p>
<p>Andy snorted again, reached out and squeezed the back of Nile’s neck. “Go get some sleep, kid. Before you get even more monosyllabic.”</p>
<p>It was… an insult? Maybe? An Andy-insult, which was also Andy-love. So Nile smiled, nodded, and did as she was told. Her eyes were closed and brain shut off before she’d even fully landed on her bed in her own little bedroom.</p>
<p>...For a little while anyway.</p>
<p>She looked the clock. Again. Twelve minutes since the last time she’d looked. She was going to murder her brain if it didn’t let up on her.</p>
<p>It was just… it was too quiet. That’s what it was. She’d spent the last eight days surrounded by sound- gunfire and grenades and Joe’s light and steady voice at her back and- </p>
<p>When the time between checking the clock went from ten to two minutes, Nile sat up with a huff. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. She grabbed her pillow, her blanket, and left the bedroom. She kept quiet, seeing Booker asleep on the couch, and slipped into Joe and Nicky’s room after a tiny hesitation. It wasn’t like she thought she’d walk in on anything- she knew well enough to know that tonight would be about them getting rest, but this was still…</p>
<p>Not crossing a line, per se, but it was a new level in their relationship. Maybe. A good one, but new, and probably weird, and definitely awkward if she got caught, and-</p>
<p>Nicky was awake.</p>
<p>Shit.</p>
<p>He looked up from his book when she entered, confused for maybe a fraction of a second. But then he saw her pillow and blanket, and softened. “You okay?”</p>
<p>“I…” she looked at them, Nicky reclined on some pillows, Joe properly passed out with his head on Nicky’s stomach, an arm across his hips, a leg across his legs. Koala’d on him, Nile decided. </p>
<p>She was maybe still a little hysterical. </p>
<p>"Nile?” Nicky tried again, his voice extra-quiet. He put his book down on the nightstand, keeping his other hand on Joe’s shoulder, rubbing it when Joe murmured incoherently at the movement.</p>
<p>“I can’t sleep,” she admitted. “I try, and I don’t hear him breathing and my brain just starts to panic that those men are back and he’s dead or I’m about to die again or…” She stopped, sighed. Tried again. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”</p>
<p>She pointed to the floor, the plush bright pink (bright <em>pink</em>?) rug next to the bed, but Nicky was already sliding closer to the edge of the mattress. “Get in.” </p>
<p>“Oh! No, it’s- it’s cool, I can…” She tried, really, but Nicky had pulled Joe- who, weirdly, didn’t so much as twitch at the much more jarring movement- over to him, leaving room for Nile between Joe and the wall. “Oh. Okay.” (He’d only protested when Nicky moved away from him, she would realize later. He hadn’t cared when Nicky pulled him closer. <em>Jesus</em>. These fucking <em>dorks</em>.)</p>
<p>She climbed over both of them and settled instinctively into the position she and Joe had taken up by the third night on their mission, back-to-back, her blanket covering their feet. She sighed, relaxed her muscles one by one, and closed her eyes.</p>
<p>And still couldn’t sleep.</p>
<p>She sighed again, aggravated this time, and carefully turned over. Nicky had his book back propped on his chest, holding it with one hand, resting the other on Joe’s shoulder. Nile reached out and briefly ran her hand up Joe’s back, lingering where a knife had gone through. No wound now, of course. He wasn’t even wearing the sweater where the tear had been. He was wearing Nicky’s hooded sweatshirt, and she kinda wished she’d been around to see just how Nicky had managed to wrestle that onto him. </p>
<p>“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she whispered when Nicky noticed her watching them.</p>
<p>He smiled, seemingly so unconcerned that she started to relax too. “Andy and I were on long shifts on our recon, I slept most of the day.” And, when he could tell that <em>she </em>could tell there was more, he shrugged. “Sometimes when he goes too long without sleep, it’s hard for him to settle. If he doesn’t get himself a healthy amount tonight, he’ll be jittery for the next few days until things re-balance.”</p>
<p>Her thought that <em>hey, maybe I can relate to that</em> was interrupted, as if on cue, by Joe twitching heavily and coming out of his sleep, wincing at the faint light in the room. “Nico?” he started to push himself up, only for Nicky to pull him back down.</p>
<p>“No, no, Yusuf, you agreed to the rule. At least eight hours in bed, remember?”</p>
<p>Joe groaned, dropped his head back to Nicky’s stomach, closed his eyes. “Can you go check on Nile then, please?”</p>
<p>Nicky grinned, even laughed a little, at the silly mix of confused and disgruntled on Joe’s face and what was probably some weird mix of embarrassed and pleased on Nile’s. “Hmm, I’ll get right on that. Oh, Nile, how are you?”</p>
<p>She reached out and pulled on one of Joe’s curls so she could watch it spring back into place. “I’m good.” </p>
<p>Joe groaned again, rueful this time, flopping onto his back so he could get a look at her. “Good?” he echoed. His eyes were still a little blurry but had lost that vacant look from before.</p>
<p>Speaking of. “Yep. Just got so used to having your cold feet by mine, couldn’t sleep without them.” </p>
<p>He grumbled, kicking her half-heartedly. “<em>You </em>have cold feet.”</p>
<p>“Do not.”</p>
<p>“Do too.”</p>
<p>“Hey, troublemakers,” Nicky warned, fighting down a smile. “It’s past your bedtimes.” He covered Joe’s eyes with his free hand, not letting up when Joe tried to shake his head free. “Go to sleep.”</p>
<p>Nile grinned at him, or maybe just a smile, maybe barely that, maybe finally tired enough to drop into sleep. She pressed her not-cold-no-yours-are feet against Joe’s, rested her forehead against his arm, and finally-finally drifted away to the sound of Joe murmuring softly to Nicky, his quiet laugh back, the feel of both of them shifting around each other- and her- in peace. </p>
<p><br/>
***</p>
<p><br/>
The fact that the hit came not during a mission or during the the night when they were all asleep, but in the middle of the day when the sun was shining and grass was green and birds dared to chirp around them, was just an added insult to the whole affair.</p>
<p>Not as much of an insult as them killing him and kidnapping Joe, but it wasn’t a good start to the day.</p>
<p>They were walking together along a trail in the hills behind their current safehouse, Nicky having dragged Joe out when that restlessness he’d predicted last night to Nile had started to become evident to the others. He’d grabbed Joe’s knee to stop it from bouncing, squeezed, and then pulled him by the hand out back to the forest trails. </p>
<p>They didn’t walk hand in hand, but after Joe realized Nicky’s secret strategy (<em>Wearing me out so I go down for a nap? I’m not some troublesome toddler, Nico, how </em>dare <em>you)</em>, he grinned and threaded his arm playfully through Nicky’s at the elbow, keeping them pressed close together, jostling and swinging their arms in tandem every few steps.</p>
<p>So the weather was beautiful, the view was beautiful, Joe was beautiful… and then it all went so ugly.</p>
<p>They heard the approach at the same time, but with the thicket of trees around them obscuring both sight and sound, it was hard to pinpoint direction until the strike team was pretty much on them. They fought back-to-back, defended each other as always, moved in sync in their movements as though they’d planned this ahead of time, and they were doing well enough that Nicky let one small side part of his brain think about how this probably <em>would </em>actually tire Joe out enough for a good amount of sleep- when a bullet struck his knee and had him down halfway. He could hear Joe’s near-silent growl behind him, the way he turned partway to cover the now open spots vulnerable to attack.</p>
<p>Another shot. A sniper, Nicky realized. And that was enough to piss him off just a little bit more. As was Joe’s second growl, this one pained, as he faltered suddenly and stumbled next to Nicky. One of the men got in close through the distraction, clubbed Nicky hard across his face, laying him out on his side on the ground. He cursed, heard Joe do the same, and went to push himself up on his elbow as the man came in even closer, gun pointed directly at him this time. </p>
<p>There were a couple of things that seemed to happen at once, and Nicky would blame his head wound for not being able to figure out the order of it all. Something exploding in the distance- the same distance away as the safehouse- Nicky’s attacker aiming for his forehead, dead enter, the apricot, and- worst of all, <em>absolutely </em>the worst of all- one of the other men asking, “Which one?” just as everything went black.</p>
<p>… </p>
<p>… </p>
<p>… </p>
<p>He gasped back awake to the sight of Andy leaning over him, her face and hair singed, her eyes wild and angry. Nile was there to brace him as he surged upwards, and she gulped down air and wiped away stray trails of blood from his face as he regained his own breath. “What-?”</p>
<p>“They blew up our car,” Andy said grimly, pulling Nile back so Nicky could get to his feet by himself. He always liked to do it under his own power after a death, regain his balance and equilibrium on his own terms, his own strength.</p>
<p>“They?” he asked, shaking his head a little, fingers twitching against his leg for some vague, he-should-know-why reason.</p>
<p>“They knew we were coming after them,” Booker was quiet, angry, behind him. </p>
<p>“It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” Nile was still trying to catch her breath, more frantic than angry. “They must’ve-”</p>
<p>“It’s <em>not </em>your fault-” Andy tried.</p>
<p>“They saw me die and come back, I wasn’t careful enough, they must’ve known we were-”</p>
<p>Nicky turned and finally realized exactly why he was so twitchy. Booker was inspecting the bodies of the few men left behind, stripping them of their weapons and ammo, searching for IDs or security badges. “...Shit.”</p>
<p>Joe was missing.</p>
<p><br/>
***</p>
<p><br/>
But it wasn’t until about three days later, fifty-six hours almost down to the minute, that Nicky actually started to panic. There was always a low-level worry when Joe was in danger, but it wasn’t the first time one of them had been taken. It wasn’t the first time the group had had to storm a compound to break out one of their own. With the internet and Copley at their disposal, it was even <em>less</em> of a stress than it used to be.</p>
<p>Nicky had even been calmer than normal in the planning and prep, as it was Nile’s first time doing this and he didn’t want her more anxious than she already was. They’d only just barely managed to convince her she hadn’t led the strike team back to the safehouse, hadn’t tipped them off or done anything wrong during the recon.</p>
<p>No, the panic came about forty-five minutes after they breached the fence around the facility. About twenty-minutes after scaling down from the roof and entering the main building. And about five minutes after sweeping the top two floors and finding nothing but a few operatives they easily neutralized. That was all concerning, yes. Worrisome, of course.</p>
<p>But it didn’t set in until just now, as they pushed through the first floor into what had to be the laboratory, the research testing hub, taking out a few more guards (night shift, none of the scientists were here) along the way.</p>
<p>Firstly, because Joe wasn’t there.</p>
<p>He’d been there, Nicky knew. His clothes and boots were neatly folded in one corner. His necklace and rings were on a countertop, and Nicky immediately grabbed and pocketed them. He scanned the half-dark room, shadowed now that they’d cut the electricity before coming in, only emergency and exit lights left glowing.</p>
<p>One of the room’s exam tables was still upright, but at a diagonal as though someone had bumped into it hard, or pushed it to the side. There were restraints on it, and blood. Not a lot of blood, it wasn’t an additional reason to panic, but enough for Nicky’s own to pump harder, angrier. The restraints hadn’t been torn, he noticed. In fact, there were still locked and buckled in place, as though someone had easily just slipped out of them.</p>
<p>But if that someone were Joe, he would be with them. Either he would have met them during the sweep, or holed up here to wait for backup. He would <em>be here</em>.</p>
<p>The other medical table was knocked over on its side, near the far corner of the room. It would have been the best possible cover, but Joe wasn’t coming out from behind it with a makeshift weapon and a determined look on his face. He was nowhere.</p>
<p>He felt the others grow more tense as they also surveyed the room. “Now what?” Nile asked quietly, shooting a glance at Andy, at Nicky, waiting.</p>
<p>Booker checked his ammo, reloaded his gun and took position by the door, watching their six. “Where would he go, if he got free?”</p>
<p>Nicky didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because there was movement behind the overturned table. Nicky held up a hand to the others, and everyone immediately went on alert. He took a step closer, just barely making out the outline of fingers gripping one of the table legs.</p>
<p>He took a couple more steps, then crouched down. Because improbably, <em>distressingly</em>, the hand he could see was very, very small. Too small to be Joe, and absolutely too small to be in a place like this. “Hello?” he called out softly, even as he stuck his gun at his back. Half of his body still thrummed with the need to find Joe, but if there was- but there <em>was </em>a child here, and he couldn’t just leave that be.</p>
<p>“Oh, what the <em>fuck</em>,” he heard Andy murmur as a head and one shoulder joined the hand, peeking around the side of the table. It was a boy, very young, maybe- it was still too dark to get a good look or see any distinguishing features- maybe just out of toddler years, four or five. Why on earth was there a child here? They’d taken a couple of teenagers before, but what- what could they have possibly done to…?  </p>
<p>“Hello there,” Nicky kept his voice soft, calm. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”</p>
<p>The boy didn’t startle at the words necessarily, but he didn’t seem to react to the question at all. Just stayed where he was, studying the four of them.</p>
<p>He didn’t understand the language, Nicky realized. He tried again in Spanish, in Greek, in Italian. Even if the child didn’t respond to any of it, at least the cadence of Nicky’s voice didn’t frighten him away. But it was at the furrow of the boy’s brow at his next greeting in Arabic, and as Nicky’s eyes adjusted to the low light even more, that his chest began to seize. What was the emotion past panic? Because that’s where he was headed.</p>
<p>The brown skin and curly hair were one thing, but it was the eyes that really gave it away. He should have been more skeptical, he should have been more cautious, but Nicky knew. The boy’s eyes were open wide, almost too big for his face. They were so expressive, radiated terror and confusion, a want for help, for safety. But curiosity too, like he couldn’t help himself. Nicky knew those eyes better than he knew his own. And his heart nearly stopped. <em>No, no, nonono.</em></p>
<p>“Yusuf,” he said quietly, dropping farther down to his knees, hunching in to make himself smaller. “Do you know me?” he asked in a Maghrebi Arabic, the oldest version he could remember. The version Joe had taught him by campfire over the span of a year, two years, three-four-five, their first few together.</p>
<p>He heard Andy’s sharp intake of breath, Booker’s muttered curse, but ignored them. He kept his focus on the child. The boy had turned immediately to him when he spoke, eyes still so wide, but holding a flicker of recognition at the language this time. And he stayed where he was with no hint of coming closer, but he didn’t move any farther away either, thank God. He looked Nicky over a few times, so intently (like <em>Joe </em>would), then shook his head.</p>
<p>Okay. <em>Fuck</em>. Okay. “That’s all right,” he smiled. “My name is Nicky. These are my friends.” He gestured to them, and managed to turn it into a wave, getting them to take a few steps back, stand down. Booker and Nile immediately stowed their guns out of sight, and Andy, with a reluctant sigh, nodded back out to the hallway and beyond, indicating she’d take off, another perimeter check and prep their getaway vehicle, as she couldn’t exactly hide the huge labrys dripping with blood.</p>
<p>Nicky gave a half-nod in return, still looking at Joe, still smiling peaceably. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Another head shake. “Okay. Good. Will you come with me, then? So my friends and I can take you somewhere safe?” Joe tensed up again, hunkering down behind the table leg even more.</p>
<p>He felt Nile kneel down beside him, could sense somehow that she had that sweet, soft smile on her face. “Hungry?” she asked, using the same dialect. Joe had been teaching her recently, and Nicky had never been more grateful for her quick grasp of languages. The child’s eyes managed to grow impossibly wider, and there was a small, tentative nod. Nile gave a little laugh, and pulled a bit of chocolate out of a pocket in her jacket.</p>
<p>Another thing Joe had taught her - having mint or ginger (or chocolate, as was Nile’s preference) on hand during a job, because sometimes when you wake up after dying you can still taste blood and death dripping down the back of your throat. She unwrapped the small square, broke off a piece, and reached out enough that Joe wouldn’t have to come too close.</p>
<p>He snatched it away from her quickly, expecting a trap (and oh, how that hurt Nicky’s heart a little), and held it up close to examine. Then he looked back at Nile. “You first,” his voice was soft and small, the higher pitch of child, but so very much Joe that Nicky wanted to keel over. He also wanted to laugh at the surprised indignation on Nile’s face, could hear a quiet chuckle from Booker behind them at the door.</p>
<p>“Me first,” Nile recovered quickly, nodded. She brought the rest of that square to her mouth and ate it, then pointed at Joe’s. He waited a second, watching Nile, looking for any sign of a trick, then devoured the piece she’d given him. Her grin got a little bigger. “Good?”</p>
<p>He looked at all three of them, one at a time, then nodded. Then looked past them to the hall. “There are bad men here.”</p>
<p>“No,” Nicky answered quickly, firmly. “We made them go. We want to leave before more come, though. Will you come with us?” He held a hand out like Nile had, not too far, not too close, giving Joe some space.</p>
<p>Joe crept a little closer, more confused than frightened of them now. “Arwa?”</p>
<p>Nile looked to Nicky, not recognizing the word, but it took all of Nicky just to stay on Joe, keep the smile on his face, apologetic as it was. “Not here. But she is safe, Yusuf. I promise. We will get you back to her as soon as we can. Okay? Her and Nasr.”</p>
<p>And that did the trick, thank God, that Nicky knew her and Nasr’s names. He came out from behind the table, and Nicky wanted to cry at how small he was, drowning in what was probably the smallest medical scrubs top the lab had. And then did almost cry at the trusting way he placed his hand in Nicky’s, holding on tight, gazing up at him. </p>
<p>Nicky squeezed gently, then looked back out to the hall, the exit, and the Humvee he knew was parked at the end. “Do we need to go?” he switched back to English.</p>
<p>Booker eyed the hall, then turned back, softened his face when he caught Joe studying him. “It’s been thirty-three minutes. Yes.”</p>
<p>The next shift would be arriving soon. Nicky nodded for Nile to stand, for her and Booker to prepare covering them. Then he turned back to Joe. “Yusuf, more bad men will be here very soon, and we will have to run. Can I carry you?”</p>
<p>Joe blinked up at him, brow still furrowed and trying so hard to work all of this out, and Nicky hated this entire situation. It was a lot. Too much. For them, and definitely for a child. But then Joe nodded and held up both arms, still so trusting. He picked him up gently, settling him on his hip just out of the way of his sword hilt, in case he needed to pull it free. </p>
<p>Booker led the way, and Nile took up position at their six, offering another smile to Joe when he peeked over Nicky’s shoulder at her. “Safe,” she nodded at him. “Safe. You’re safe.” She kept it up even as they started to move, a slow jog at first, then picking up speed as they got through the fence and neared the Humvee. </p>
<p>Andy was waiting for them, her eyes doing another double-take at Joe, still not used to it, but then her attention was caught on something behind them. “Move,” she barked out, turning the engine over with one hand, pulling out a gun with the other.</p>
<p>Nicky could hear it now, shouts, running footsteps, maybe even the sounds of another engine. No. These bastards weren’t getting him back. He cupped one hand to the back of Joe’s head, held him against his shoulder, shielding, and made a break for it. “I’ve got you,” he picked up where Nile had dropped off, whispering to the boy now shaking in his arms. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”</p>
<p>Booker opened the backseat door for him and then hustled around to the passenger side. Nicky dove in to the back, trusting Nile to follow behind him and shut the door. He kept both arms around Joe, hunching over him at the sound of gunfire, one of the windows shattering, Nile yelling something even as Andy threw the Humvee into gear and took off.</p>
<p>“I’ve got you,” he repeated, brushing fingers over and over through his hair. “I’m here.” Joe was still shaking, burrowing deeper into his hold, his own (too) small hands grasping at Nicky’s vest and shirt. “It's all right, we’re okay.” </p>
<p>It took a couple minutes of fancy maneuvers, of Booker and Nile both firing out their windows, but soon they were in the clear. And yet, with all eyes trying and failing not to stare at the figure curled up in Nicky’s lap, nobody seemed all that relaxed.</p>
<p>“Another thirty minutes or so till we get to the house,” Andy said quietly, meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror. They’d moved locations that morning, to one of Andy’s she’d held onto for years. Longer than any of these research people had been alive, that was for sure. For all the good- the safety- it might do them. He nodded back at her, wondering if his own face was as desperately helpless as hers. Probably.</p>
<p>Nile set her gun aside with a tired sigh, then turned to face him. Both of them. She reached out and rubbed her hand up and down Joe’s back, soothing. “Okay, sweetheart?” she pulled out another piece of her candy. “Chocolate?” she offered in English. Joe finally turned his head away from Nicky’s chest to look at her, and whatever look was on his face melted Nile completely. She cupped his face gently, ran her thumb against his cheek a few times. “Very. Brave.” She went back to Derja, said the words one at a time. Decisive. </p>
<p>He could feel Joe relax against him a little, could feel him <em>smile </em>a little. He kept the motion of his hand in Joe’s hair, carding through, as Nile shared more little bits of chocolate. They all sat in silence for the rest of the ride, staring at nothing out the window, trying not to stare at- at…</p>
<p>At Yusuf, Nicky decided then and there, as Andy pulled into the drive in front of their new safehouse. Yusuf, not Joe. Nicky had to differentiate in his head or he might go into some very real hysterics. It wasn’t often they encountered something so entirely outside their many realms of experience. It was even less often that Nicky encountered something without Joe by his side.</p>
<p>This wasn’t going to be so simple as taking care of Joe after an injury or a tough mission. This was… this was a child that needed to be cared for. How on God’s earth were they supposed to <em>do </em>this? </p>
<p>And how were they supposed to get Joe back?</p>
<p>He stowed the fear for now, knowing any panic or confusion in him couldn’t possibly help the situation. Couldn't help Yusuf, or Joe. It was enough to cause Nicky to tighten his hold as he got out of the Humvee, murmuring nonsense softly in Italian, keeping Yusuf close to the warmth of his chest, his heartbeat.</p>
<p>He threw a questioning look at Booker when he didn’t follow the rest of them up to the house. Booker shook his head, held out a hand to Andy. “Keys.” She handed them over immediately, but with the same questioning look on her face. Booker kept his own expression too neutral and his voice too calm. “He needs clothes. Shoes. And... We don’t know how long this is going to last. I’m going on a supply run.”</p>
<p>“Good. Yeah.” Andy gave a simple nod and turned back to go inside, not making a fuss, and Nicky and Nile followed her lead, leaving Book to head back out.</p>
<p>“Having a kid around’s gonna be tough for him, isn’t it?” Nile half-whispered, as though Booker could hear or Yusuf could understand.</p>
<p>Nicky just hummed an affirmative, sitting himself down on the sofa, tentatively relaxing his hold on Yusuf, if no other reason than to see what he’d do. He kept his eyes on the boy’s bowed head, his fingers still holding onto Nicky’s vest, as Andy took a seat farther away and Nile perched on the far end of the sofa within Yusuf’s line of sight.</p>
<p>“We’re safe now. Safe here,” he said quietly, running his hand up and down Yusuf’s back. “Are you sure you are not hurt?”</p>
<p>Yusuf pulled back enough to look at Nicky, and he felt his heart twist again at the red-rimmed, overwhelmed look in his eyes. But he nodded, his fingers fiddling with one of the straps on Nicky’s vest, the same kind of tic adult-Joe had when he was trying to process too much at once. “They were very mean.”</p>
<p>He kept himself steady with his many years of practice, despite the way he could see Andy look away sharply out of the corner of his eye, could hear Nile’s shaky exhale of air. He smiled, brushed Yusuf’s hair back from his face gently, the curls just on the shorter side of overgrown, spilling over his forehead. “They won’t be coming here,” Nicky promised. “They were mean to you, Yusuf?”</p>
<p>He nodded again. “They yelled. Loud. And stuck me.”</p>
<p>“Stuck you?” Nicky repeated.</p>
<p>Yusuf pressed at his upper arm. “Sharp sticks.”</p>
<p>Needles. They’d injected him. Drugged him. Nicky covered the spot with his own hand, somewhat scared of just how much larger he was. His hand covered nearly all of Yusuf’s upper arm. He was so <em>small</em>.</p>
<p>“How many?” Andy asked quietly, pitching her voice low and soothing without being overly saccharine or pushy. “How many sharp sticks were there?”</p>
<p>He wasn’t surprised her accent with the dialect was flawless, but Yusuf seemed pretty perturbed by it- at this point in his life he probably hadn’t met that many people of their skin color who could speak his language, let alone a woman. He huddled a little closer to Nicky while studying Andy, trying to puzzle her out.</p>
<p>Nicky couldn’t help the smile, whether for that curiosity he’d recognize anywhere- the kind that often distracted Joe in the middle of a random sentence- or for the fact that Yusuf moved towards him for safety, comfort. “That is Andy,” he said quietly. “The very best warrior in the world.” And he ignored Andy’s eye roll in favor of the shine of wonder on Yusuf’s face. “Did they use sticks on you more than once?”</p>
<p>“Three,” Yusuf held up the corresponding fingers one at a time. </p>
<p>“That’d be every, what, four or five hours? So at least twelve hours, then, maybe more,” Andy mused in English. "He was only Joe for a few hours. They must've started this, this thing pretty much as soon as they got him." Back to Yusuf, “Did they feed you, Yusuf?” He nodded. “How many times did you eat?” Before he could respond, “Did you sleep? Do you remember anything before the bad people?” Getting more worked up with each question. “Did they talk to you, try to ask you questions?”</p>
<p>“Andy,” Nile admonished. “Ease up the interrogation, maybe?” Yusuf’s eyes had gotten wide again, watery. Overwhelmed, confused, upset. Exhausted, more than anything.</p>
<p>Nicky could relate. He brought Yusuf in to his chest again and rubbed his back slowly. “Okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”</p>
<p>“I want Arwa,” he mumbled, his voice wobbly and draining steadily.</p>
<p>“I know, sweetheart,” he kept his voice just as low. “I know. I promise we will get you back to her.” Was it dangerous to promise? Probably. But Nicky wouldn’t allow himself to believe anything other than that they would get <em>his </em>Joe back, so this had to be true as well.</p>
<p>“Arwa,” Yusuf insisted, stubborn, but fading oh-so-fast. </p>
<p>“I know,” Nicky repeated too, slower and softer, hoping to lull him down. “Shh, I know.” Repeated over and over, until the entirely too small body in his lap became sleep-heavy and silent. </p>
<p>Andy got up from her chair once she was sure Yusuf was asleep, moved in to get a closer look at him. “He’s probably still groggy from whatever they drugged him with.”</p>
<p>“Do you…” Nile stopped, then forced herself to continue on. “Do you think it was a sedative, or just whatever- whatever made him this way?”</p>
<p>“Both maybe,” Andy clenched her jaw, brushed a hand through Yusuf’s hair lightly. “Sorry, sunshine,” she murmured, so soft Nicky barely heard her. Then, raising her voice again, not enough to wake him, just enough to be heard, “What the everloving <em>fuck </em>did they do to him? And why?”</p>
<p>“How do we get him back?” Nile asked the other burning question.</p>
<p>It burned too much. Nicky swallowed hard, then stood carefully while still cradling Yusuf. “I’ll put him to bed,” was all he could say. He moved quickly so he wouldn’t have to hear anymore, taking Yusuf into their- his?- their?- room. “Okay,” he murmured, “Let’s get you settled for the night, hmm?” he asked no one. Yusuf couldn't answer, fast asleep, and Joe couldn't... wasn't... He laid Yusuf out on the bed, leaving him the scrubs shirt for now- so big it came down past his knees anyway, drew the blanket over him, stepped back, and nearly had another meltdown.</p>
<p>He was so small.</p>
<p>It wasn’t a large bed, something Joe pointed out every time they were here with a waggle of his eyebrows. But Yusuf was almost swallowed up by it, so much so that Nicky had a frantic sort of flash and grabbed the extra pillows off the bed and nearby chair, tried to craft a soft barrier all around him to keep him… <em>what, Nicolò, keep him safe</em>? Could any of them actually be safe? Would Yusuf ever be? <em>Would Joe?</em></p>
<p>He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, used the time to push the panic back down. He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to Yusuf’s temple, readjusted the blanket around his chin. “Sleep well, Yusuf,” he whispered. He left the lamp on its lowest setting and the door cracked open a fraction as he left, reminding himself in that moment that he was an immortal warrior and had lived centuries through every modern war and invention and disaster… and that a child was not going to be the thing that broke his brain.</p>
<p>Lord, Joe would be having a field day with this if he was here.</p>
<p>If...</p>
<p>He shook his head. They’d fix this. He refocused on the living room as he came back, Booker having arrived in those minutes away. He approached Nicky almost reluctantly, only holding his gaze for a few seconds at a time before looking away, looking at him again, looking away again. “I, uh,” he shoved a bag into Nicky’s hands. “Got some clothes, socks, shoes, everything. A coat. It’s going to be colder for him, we’re not used to dealing with it.”</p>
<p>“Good thinking. Smart,” Nicky nodded, wanting to treat this gently too, unsure how.</p>
<p>“Do you think he’d understand Standard?” Booker asked, lowering his voice, even though they both knew Andy and Nile could still hear everything. “Arabic. I know you were speaking the Maghrebi one, but I haven’t in awhile, might be rusty. Don’t want to confuse him more than he already is.”</p>
<p>Nicky shrugged one shoulder, feeling like any sharp sudden movement might spook Booker away. “I don’t know. We can test it out in the morning, maybe. If he’s still… this way.”</p>
<p>“You think it’ll wear off?” Nile asked from the sofa, hopeful. </p>
<p>“We can’t assume anything until we know what exactly ‘it’ is,” Andy interjected from the kitchen doorway, holding a new bag of child-friendly groceries. “So, a little preparation for every possibility.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that won’t be anxiety-inducing,” Nile muttered, though at least her tone was still light.</p>
<p>Booker’s, not so much. He handed Nicky another bag. “I got him…” he stopped, his own half-shrug. “In case he needed something to sleep. Or feel better, I don’t know, fuck, just don’t bat your eyelashes at me, asshole.”</p>
<p>Because the second bag held a stuffed animal dog. A large one, maybe half the size of Yusuf himself. “Book…” It was brown and white, big floppy limbs and ears, overly soft fur, and-</p>
<p>“He’s a child,” Booker snapped, half defensive, half embarrassed, fully covering it with anger. “He needs more than just the material basics, okay? He needs…” he drifted off with a shake of his head, seeming to realize that everyone was watching him. “We’ll need to have a plan for if this is long term.”</p>
<p>And that could mean anything, but Nicky was suddenly terrified that he meant they would have to send Yusuf away. Before he could get defensive himself, or snap back at him, Andy reappeared in the living room, instantly calming. “We’ll need to make a lot of potential plans,” she said, eyeing first Booker, then Nicky. Telling them both to stand down and relax. “And it can wait until morning after everyone’s had some sleep and decent coffee. Bunk down for the night.”</p>
<p>Nicky waited for Booker to step back first, until there was enough air around him for him to breathe again. And then Nile was there, grabbing him gently by the wrist. “Hey.” She waited for Nicky to look over at her, then raised her eyebrows. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break, or a walk, some time alone? I can sit with him for awhile if you want to-”</p>
<p>But Nicky was already shaking his head. “I think that’s something else I want to put off until at least tomorrow.”</p>
<p>She seemed to understand, but asked anyway, “You sure?”</p>
<p>And Nicky very much was sure. “I still need to be near him. Even if he’s not my- our- our Joe right now. It’s still better than not.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah,” Nile offered up a smile. “I know. But tomorrow, if you want to take, like, even just twenty minutes to have a freakout somewhere, that’s okay too. I had a lot of little cousins growing up. I’m a very reliable babysitter. Got references and everything.”</p>
<p>He smiled because that had been her goal, but part of him still blanched at the idea that… “He’s <em>Joe</em>.”</p>
<p>“I know,” she said again.</p>
<p>“Except he’s not. This is Yusuf, he’s never met us, he has no reason to trust us, and he’s scared and defenseless and-”</p>
<p>“And surrounded by badass warriors. Three of whom can’t be killed.” She shook his wrist, squeezing harder. “This didn’t happen by magic, Nicky. Right? It was science. Which means it can un-happen. We’ll get him back.”</p>
<p>“We’ll get him back,” he repeated. “Yes.”</p>
<p>And the very logical part of him believed that, knew it even. But when he slipped back into the bedroom and saw a child sleeping there, curled up on the far side of the bed against the wall, he let the despair run through him, just for a minute or two. Because Joe wasn’t here. And something like this- any something, really- was infinitely easier when Joe was <em>here</em>. </p>
<p>And because Yusuf, maybe on purpose, maybe in his sleep, had managed to get all of those pillows Nicky had put on the bed into a pile between himself and the door. Protecting himself. Nicky smiled painfully, setting the stuffed dog down at the foot of the bed. </p>
<p>He was having a hard time not feeling like a child himself at the moment, his world boiling down to one very specific need. His husband. Joe was his safety net, his tether to the world outside his own head, his outlet and sanctuary. The first and best source of unconditional support and love he'd ever had. Where the hell was Nicky supposed to be, if Joe wasn't here?</p>
<p>If Joe wasn't <em>anywhere</em>?</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'm trying to think of any content warnings for this chapter and I don't think there are any... maybe an over-indulgence in the de-aging fic tropes? Probably that. And a cheat of a way to still get adult!Joe into this chapter? Probably that too... :) Thanks to everyone who's read/kudosed/commented so far, I love it all! &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>He came alert quickly, sensing movement nearby. It was morning, sunlight streaming through the window and hitting his spot on the floor where he’d bunked down for the night. He’d wanted to be close to Yusuf, hoping (maybe selfishly) that he’d feel safer with Nicky there between him and the door.</p>
<p>And (also maybe selfishly) he was fairly certain it had worked. He sat up and watched as Yusuf stirred, seemingly having felt secure enough to sleep through the night. And then kicked himself for feeling so triumphant, when Yusuf looked around, remembered where he was and where he <em>wasn’t</em>, and his face fell so sharply and devastatingly that Nicky almost felt like crying himself.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Yusuf,” he said softly. </p>
<p>Yusuf locked onto him, looked somewhat relieved to recognize someone, but his eyes still watered, biting at his bottom lip. “Arwa?”</p>
<p>He shook his head, trying to look as apologetic as possible. “Not yet, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>His face fell even more. “Yosra?” he tried anyway.</p>
<p>Nicky stood and carefully sat on the edge of the bed, close but not too close. “I am sure she is fine too, she’s with Arwa. We will get you back to them as soon as we can.” He ran his hand through Yusuf’s hair, riotous and tangled from sleep. “They must miss you very much.” </p>
<p>Yusuf looked down at his lap, twisted the blanket between his fingers. “Nasr says it’s my job to look out for them.”</p>
<p>Damn it. “I bet you are very good at it, too,” he managed to keep his own voice from cracking. “You know, maybe you can help me with something.” He reached out for the stuffed animal, pushed to the side sometime during the night. He set it down gently in Yusuf’s lap, in his line of sight. “My friend Booker brought him home last night too. He is also without his family right now. Maybe you can look out for him, while you are here?”</p>
<p>He smiled as Yusuf grabbed at the dog and hugged it close to his chest, burying his face in its fur, mumbling a hello. But then Yusuf looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “Are the bad men here?”</p>
<p>“Somewhere far away,” Nicky hedged, unsure of how truthful to be. “Not here, but we are hiding to stay safe.”</p>
<p>His frown deepened. “Will they hurt Arwa and Yosra?”</p>
<p>“No,” he said quickly, strongly, even as his heart broke some more. “I promise. They are safe.”</p>
<p>Yusuf clutched the dog closer to him, not yet convinced. “What if they get scared without me?”</p>
<p>That heart, already too big for a too-small body and a too-wild world. Nicky leaned in close and rubbed his back lightly. “How about I send along a message to them so they are not scared, and so Nasr knows to look after them for you until you return?”</p>
<p>Yusuf scrunched up one side of his face, thinking hard, his fingers combing through the dog’s fur. Nicky hid his smile and gave him the time, heartened when Yusuf ultimately nodded and gave Nicky a wobbly smile of his own. “Yes, thank you.”</p>
<p>He laughed quietly, ruffled his hair. “You are welcome. Would you like breakfast?” Yusuf started to nod, eager, but then eyed the door, the world on the other side of it suddenly very scary. He pulled back a little, the dog now held up in front and close like a shield. Nicky kept the calm and steady smile on his face. “Only my friends- your friends now, too- are out there.” <em>You’re safe, it’s okay, you’re safe</em>. Nicky hoped it wouldn’t become a mantra. Hoped it wouldn’t need to be.</p>
<p>Yusuf finally agreed to climb out of his nest on the bed and change into the clothes Booker provided. Simple soft pants and long shirt, nothing too modern or jarring for him. Smart thinking, again. Yusuf followed him out of the bedroom tentatively, holding onto three of Nicky’s fingers with one hand and the dog with the other, unwilling to part with it now.</p>
<p>All conversation went silent as they entered the kitchen, Andy and Booker still managing to look startled by the... everything. By the everything. But Nile, bless her, immediately got up from the table and crouched down next to them. “Good morning.”</p>
<p>“Hello,” Yusuf kept half his face hidden behind the stuffed animal, but eyed her curiously with the other half.</p>
<p>“My name is Nile,” she reached out and petted the dog gently, careful not to touch Yusuf just yet. “Do you remember me?”</p>
<p>For a second Nicky wasn’t sure if she was asking Yusuf, or hoping Joe was in there somewhere, but either way Yusuf was the one who answered. He nodded, pointed at the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Choc-o-late,” enunciating the word clumsily in English.</p>
<p>Nile broke out into a grin. “Right. You’re a smart one, huh?” She nodded for Nicky to go on ahead while she stayed with Yusuf. “Can I meet your friend here?”</p>
<p>Nicky listened with half an ear as Nile kept him distracted well enough, preparing a quick breakfast for himself and Yusuf. Looked up with a tired smile as Andy joined him, an arm briefly squeezing his waist before she helped him carry plates and cups over to the table. “Okay so far?” she asked under her breath.</p>
<p>He could only just keep the smile on his face. “So far.” Breakfast was mostly silent after that, Yusuf eating slowly and carefully, one hand never leaving the stuffed dog’s fur, eyeing all of them warily but with real curiosity. Nicky could see the part of him that wanted to explore and ask them all dozens of questions, but all of this was still too scary and strange for him.</p>
<p>For all of them.</p>
<p>It was after the dishes were washed and put away, and Nicky had set himself down on the floor by the sofa so Yusuf could climb into his lap and quietly play with his new furry friend, that Andy brought Nile and Booker with her to stand in front of them. “We need to talk.”</p>
<p>He knew they needed to discuss this. He knew they needed to brainstorm and lay out the options. He also knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “Now? In front of…?” It might scare Yusuf if they all started talking in another language, especially if he could pick up how upset they all were trying very hard not to be.</p>
<p>Booker cleared his throat. “You all talk. I’ll take him out to the garden.”</p>
<p>Surprising all of them. Maybe himself a little too. “You’ll… what?” Nile asked, in that way she was doing more and more, pretending not to be surprised or thrown by things, convincing herself she wasn't always a little behind. (Nicky made a note to himself- they needed to talk this out soon. She had to stop castigating herself for still having so much to learn.)</p>
<p>Booker didn’t look at any of them, just at Yusuf. “I think I proved last night I’m… compromised by all this. I don’t trust myself.”</p>
<p>“Trust yourself.” Andy was the first to get over her surprise, already quiet and knowing.</p>
<p>“With making decisions for a child. Deciding… what’s best for him,” Booker shook his head, held up a hand, stopped Nile from reaching for him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to. Too long. And not long enough. I can’t.”</p>
<p>There was a pleading in his voice none of them could ignore. Not even Yusuf, who’d stopped playing with the dog in order to look up at them, studying Booker with something like wariness, maybe concern. Booker caught the look, flushed a little, guilty, and offered him a smile. “Hello there. I’m Booker.” His accent was muddy, tentative, but the words were right.</p>
<p>Yusuf frowned for a moment, and Nicky was just about to wonder if maybe the accent was worse than he’d thought, when his face cleared and a smile appeared. (It was Joe’s smile, his small and sweet one, and it <em>hurt</em>.) He held up the dog. “You brought him.”</p>
<p>Booker nodded and came closer. And, possibly without even realizing it, his voice grew warm to match Yusuf's. “I did, yes.”</p>
<p>Nicky saw an echo of his nod behind him, Andy coming to a decision. “Go ahead, Book. We’ll talk in here if you distract him for awhile.”</p>
<p>“So just how old are you, hmm?” Nicky was shocked by Booker crouching down next to them, his face as open and soft as he’d ever seen it. <em>More </em>than he’d ever seen it. “Fifteen years? Twenty? No, forty, right?”</p>
<p>Yusuf shook his head, eyes alight with mischief, recognizing the teasing for what it was. “Four.”</p>
<p>“Four?” Booker sat back on his heels, pretended to be rocked back with shock. “Are you certain?” As Yusuf’s nod, he smiled. Really smiled. “I think that is old enough. I have to go say hello to the all the horses out back. Would you like to help me?”</p>
<p>Their safehouse butted up against a horse farm, one of the larger grazing fields running just along the back end of their garden. Nicky suspected it was the reason Andy had kept it for so long. Yusuf nodded eagerly, scrambling to his feet, then hesitated abruptly. “Is it safe outside?” he turned back to Nicky.</p>
<p>Nicky made sure his face was absolutely serious, trustworthy. “Yes, very safe. No bad men near us, remember?”</p>
<p>“Because we’re hiding,” Yusuf supplied. “Until I can go back to Arwa.”</p>
<p>And he then made sure Yusuf couldn’t tell how much his heart was breaking. “That’s right.” And when Yusuf hesitated before holding the stuffed animal out to him, he nodded solemnly again. “I’ll watch him for you while you go with Booker.”</p>
<p>And there was his smile. Sunshine, like Andy had said the night before. “Thank you,” and with that he turned and grabbed Booker’s three fingers- without it being offered, no notice of the startled look on Booker’s face- and they were gone.</p>
<p>Nicky kept his eyes on the window, waiting until he could see two figures, one large, one small, approach the fence. Then he turned back to Andy and Nile with a heavy exhale of air. “Okay. What- what do we do?”</p>
<p>It was silent for a good five seconds. “I was hoping you’d know,” Andy admitted, dropping into a chair with a sigh. Nile gave a hollow laugh and perched on the sofa, where she too could look out the window, watch as Booker lifted Yusuf up to sit on the fence railing.</p>
<p>“Outcome one,” Andy threw out. “This thing wears off, he turns back into Joe on his own. We’d just have to give it time, though no telling how much. Outcome two-”</p>
<p>“He needs another dose of whatever they hit him with, or a counteracting one. A cure. We’d need help from one of the people that took him, or from someone Copley can find,” Nile supplied. “It’s either the simple fix, or it could harm him even more.”</p>
<p>“Outcome three…” Andy paused, looked to Nicky.</p>
<p>“Outcome three.” Another check out the window. One of the horses from the neighboring farm had approached, and the eye-crinkling delight on Yusuf’s face was too much like what would later become his husband’s, and Nicky had to look away. But he couldn’t look at Andy either. “This is permanent.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Andy was steady about it, at least. No patronizing, no pitying. “So we keep outcome three on the backburner. The back-backburner. Right now, we focus on first two. Which one is best for everyone?”</p>
<p>“What's 'for everyone' mean?” Nile asked.</p>
<p>Andy tilted her head, her smile wry but unapologetic. “I have to think about the entire team. The little sunspot out there is absolutely a part of us, and I will do anything, everything, I can to get Joe back, but we’re no good to him- past or present versions- if we’re dead or captured. So,” another focus in on Nicky. “The way I see it? We either lay low for awhile, see if this wears off, or we hit that lab again.”</p>
<p>“What would we be hitting it for?” Nicky asked instead of answering.</p>
<p>“That’s up for discussion too. Intel, really. Whether that’s research we can get off a computer, or intel out of a scientist’s mouth, the damn cure sitting there in a test tube, I don't know yet. And if we grab one of them, where do we take him? Would we trust him-”</p>
<p>“Or her, Andy, don’t be so misogynistic,” Nile muttered.</p>
<p>“Okay, millennial,” Andy snapped back without any heat. “Would we trust <em>them </em>to treat the kid? </p>
<p>“The lab is our best bet,” Nicky not-answered. “We can lay low for a short time, but any longer than that will be bad for him, mentally. It’ll be just a different form of captivity, not letting him go back to his family.”</p>
<p>Neither of them replied with the obvious yet somewhat incorrect counterpoint- <em>they </em>were his family. Because they weren’t. Not yet. Not for a long while.</p>
<p>“The lab,” Andy nodded. “I’ll go over what we have on it, get Copley involved a little. Let me take care of that for now.” He nodded too, relieved until Andy looked around like she was looking for- oh. She had been about to ask Joe if he wanted to join her.  Joe was the one who liked listening in while she planned things, liked looking at the angles, the options, the ins and outs and opportunities he might get to be thrown out of a window. Nicky preferred to leave that to Andy. He was a sniper- he liked his focal points, he liked knowing his part, focusing on <em>what</em> they were doing (what good they did, who they were helping, why the should) more than the how.</p>
<p>And just what <em>possible </em>good could he do now?</p>
<p>“Hey Nicky?” Nile sounded a bit more cautious now, tentative. He turned to look up at her on the sofa, eyebrows raised. Inviting, he hoped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't ever ask questions. “He… he hasn’t asked for his mom, or dad, this whole time. Who’s Arwa?” Andy’s eyebrow shot up and then just as quickly dropped, and she looked at Nicky, curious for what he’d say.</p>
<p>“Arwa was one of his sisters,” he answered, glancing out the window to be safe, as though Yusuf- as though <em>Joe</em>- could hear him. “The oldest, by more than a few years. Nasr was her husband. After they were married, they took Joe in and raised him in their home.”</p>
<p>“But his parents…?” Nile ventured after a pause, thoroughly confused. </p>
<p>Nicky shook his head, briefly wondered what she’d pictured as his own upbringing if she was this surprised about Joe’s. “He was the youngest by many years, fifteen at least. A surprise birth. Neither parent had been prepared for him, and neither were around much later than that. His mother either died or left them when he was young. Younger than this. His father took it hard, stopped,” <em>caring</em>, “raising him after that.” Another check out the window. Yusuf was leaning forward and nearly falling off the fence rail to pet the two horses now in front of him, Booker looking terrified at every enthusiastic movement. Nicky couldn’t stop the smile at that. “His other sister was already living with Arwa and Nasr. Yosra. In another year or two from this age, the three of them just came to the house and… took him. And their father never put up a fight.” </p>
<p>“Nasr was the merchant, then,” she guessed, moving on very diplomatically. Nicky was impressed. And appreciative.</p>
<p>He nodded. “Yusuf has been asking for all three of them, so you know. I told him I was sending them a message so they wouldn’t worry, but he’ll ask again soon.”</p>
<p>“Another reason not to lay low for too long,” Andy guessed. “Shouldn’t do anything to break that trust in us.”</p>
<p>“Did they…” Nile stopped, started again. “Did Joe keep track of them after the Crusades?" Obviously thinking of the story Nicky and Joe had told her of tracking down Nicky's younger brother and nephews decades after. That was always a good story to tell- somewhat silly, somewhat sad, but a good lesson to be taught about moving on with this life. "Did you ever get to meet Arwa and them?”</p>
<p>"No." But now, Nicky very much did not look out the window. “They were dead before then.” He found his own hands petting the damned dog. “They were why he joined.”</p>
<p>Andy bowed her head for just a moment, let that settle, then looked up with a thoughtful look on her face. “Do you think he’s immortal right now?”</p>
<p>Nile and Nicky looked up sharply. “What?”</p>
<p>She seemed startled by her own question. “As he is now. Is he still immortal? Or did he revert back to his actual four-year-old body?”</p>
<p>“Does it matter?” Nile squeaked out after a moment of deep silence. “It’s not like we’re not going to test it.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say we should, just…” Andy shrugged. “It might be useful to know.”</p>
<p>“We’re not about to traumatize a four-year-old who was stuck in a lab where they were doing fuck all knows what to him for hours and hours,” Nile managed to get stern in a matter of seconds. “I’m not going to let him get so much as a paper cut right now, Andy.”</p>
<p>She held up her hands. “I wasn’t saying that. Just…” she looked directly at Nicky, “at some point, it could be important to know.”</p>
<p>If Yusuf didn’t age. If he stayed four forever now. If they sent Yusuf away to be raised by some normal family, he wouldn’t be any safer. They’d be sending him away forever, he’d be-</p>
<p>“We’re not thinking about that, Nicky,” Andy cut in firmly. “We’re not thinking of outcome three, remember? Just, if he does get a paper cut, and heals right away, we gotta think that’s going to be traumatizing on its own, right?”</p>
<p>Nicky took a steadying breath, calm, leaned into Nile’s hand as it gripped his shoulder. “Even- even if he is, I’m going to treat him as if he isn’t. We’re going to protect him as if he isn’t.” <em>We’re not letting the paper cut happen in the first place. </em> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Andy soothed, used the same voice she’d used on Yusuf the night before. It wasn’t a typical voice coming from her, but it was real. Nicky knew he could trust in that. Could trust Yusuf’s life with that. Could trust his own.<br/><br/></p>
<p>***</p>
<p><br/>Nicky set up his spot on the floor by the bed again that night, and watched from a respectful distance as Yusuf recreated his pillow nest against the wall, this time clutching the stuffed dog in the crook of his elbow. Hid his smile as Yusuf frowned at one particular pillow, pursing his lips and scrunching up one side of his face as he adjusted it just so. It was Joe’s ‘this painting is give me trouble and I don’t care if it’s dinner time, Nicolò, and yes you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but I have to <em>fix </em>this’ face.</p>
<p>God, he missed Joe’s face.</p>
<p>He was actually grateful in that moment when Yusuf finally had the nest to his liking and flopped down in the middle with the pillows piled so high on either side that Nicky lost sight of him. Blocked his view of that face. But the very soft sigh, murmured words to the dog, had Nicky falling into guilt even for that. He wasn’t the only person in this room missing someone. </p>
<p>He turned the lamp down and settled with his blanket, calling out a “Good night, Yusuf,” as he did.</p>
<p>And was startled- and immediately warmed- by the quiet, “Good night, Nicky,” he heard from in between the pillows. He turned onto his side with a smile, studied the bed. He thought of another bed, in another room, another time and place... and a few very similar thoughts.</p>
<p>
  <em>He just barely managed to roll to the side as he dropped to the mattress, missing Josef’s chest sweaty and heaving, by a fraction of an inch. He let his arm lay across that chest though, as he also attempted to catch his breath, grinning into the pillow when he felt Josef crane his neck forward just enough to kiss the arm in question.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Getting far too good at that,” Josef murmured between breaths as he trailed a line of further kisses along Nicolai’s arm, up his shoulder to his neck.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicolai turned his head to catch the next one on his mouth, mock-frowning. “‘Getting?’”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I would rather bet a fortune that you will constantly surpass my wildest dreams than settle for what may only be the beginning of your exceptional talent,” he beamed back, unrepentant. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicolai groaned, finally reaching for the flannel on the bedside table, cleaning them both gently despite his exasperation. (Exaggerated, of course. Because sometimes it was easier to play pretend like that than fully acknowledge how- even after centuries- Josef could wring his heart like it too was made of cloth.) </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Josef just smiled knowingly, keeping his arms outstretched even after Nicolai was done, leaving the space around and against him open. Nicolai took advantage, sliding in until they were perfectly aligned, lying facing each other. He waited for Josef’s arms to wrap around him and draw him closer, then he smiled and pulled in return until Josef’s face was pressed into his neck. Mostly because it gave him access to his hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There may be no more satisfying thing- at the end of a long day, at the beginning of a new one, for either of them- than playing with Josef’s hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He flicked the few stray curls back away from his forehead. “Sometimes I wish you’d grow these longer. It’d be nice to have-” at Josef’s snort, he twisted his ear playfully. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Jo. I just…” he twirled a few around his fingertips. “I’m curious, I guess. You haven’t ever grown them out like they were when we met.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Josef’s fingers were tracing stray patterns up and down Nicolai’s back, tapping staccato rhythms into his spine. “There are quite a few things I've done differently since we met, my heart.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a real conversation, partly about how beautiful I find your hair, and you just want to make innuendos at me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Always,” was the immediate reply. But then he felt Josef pull back some, just enough to look him in the eye, just enough to kiss him. “There wasn’t time back then to take care of it so much, or cut it. I’d never actually had it that long before, when we met.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not even as a child?” He had distant memories of his own hair as a boy, wild and barely tamed by leather string, constantly in his face or getting caught on something or other. A tree, one time. In an incident he'd rather never speak of.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Josef smiled and shook his head, perched his chin on Nicolai’s chest, digging into the dip of his collar bone. “My sisters used to cut it the second it got too long into my face. ‘We’re meant to see your eyes, Yusuf, you’re not allowed to hide them anymore.’” He closed them now as Nicolai’s fingers sunk back into his hair and scratched along his scalp, humming soft approval, gratitude.</em>
</p>
<p><em>“You? </em>You <em>had trouble with eye contact?” Nicolai half-teased. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>And yet his smile faded slowly at the look now on Josef’s face- something not awful, but far away. “I look like my mother. Or I did. Back then, at least. Before they took me in, when it was just me and my father. He didn’t like looking into my eyes.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He felt his own eyes harden, sharp, angry. “He-?”</em>
</p>
<p><em>Josef shook his head, one of his hands back to calmly petting along Nicolai’s spine, smoothing away anger. “Not in whatever way you might be thinking. He never did anything to me.” </em>That is not the consolation you think it is<em>, Nicolai wanted to explain, not for the first time. “It wasn’t anger or resentment. It was grief. He’d look at me and see her eyes, and it hurt him. So I stopped making him look at me.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Nicolai stayed quiet for a few moments, keeping up the motions of his fingers, unconsciously combing the hair back from Josef’s face to keep his eyes as uncovered as possible. “It’s hard for me,” he then began, carefully, “to reconcile that Yusuf with the one in front of me now.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Josef’s eyes opened to search his, almost confused at the emotion Nicolai had thought he was doing such a good job of hiding. “That Yusuf is fine. He grew up so happy. So loved. Why are you sad?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“He was your family,” Nicolai tried to put it into words. “And he let his own hurt and grief get in the way of the love he should have had for you. That’s what makes me sad. It is hard for me to forgive.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And yet Josef’s eyes were clear, and loving, and sure. No pain. “It was a very small part of my very long life. I spent so many more years with Arwa and Nasr, and they were good, Nico. You know that.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I do, I know, my Yusuf.” Nicolai allowed himself a smile too. “If I could go back and speak to anyone from the past, it would be to thank them for loving you as they did, giving you the heart you have now, so that I might now love you the same.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“‘Might?’” Josef mocked his pouting from earlier.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicolai rolled his eyes again, but was unable to stop the smile from spreading into a grin. He may never know how Josef was able to do that, give him the space and the air to speak so many more words than he normally would out loud, to never feel burdened or burdening with them. “I’m still deciding.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Josef laughed, delighted, almost giddy, the way he always was when Nicolai indulged in his more playful, teasing side. “Just how many centuries do you need, my heart?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“At least a dozen more,” Nicolai pulled him in close again, pressed their lips together, smiled into it as he felt Josef’s hands come up to cradle his face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then I will give you that,” he hummed, held Nicolai in place to kiss him again, “If I could, I’d give you everything.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What makes you think you don’t already?” he rolled onto his back, pulling Josef up over him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Because,” Josef dipped his head down, mouthed along his collar bone, traced a path up towards his eagerly waiting mouth. Linked their fingers together and slowly moved Nicolai’s hands above his head. “Every morning I wake up knowing I can give you more.”</em>
</p>
<p>When Nicky woke up the next morning, his eyes immediately, instinctively, went to Yusuf. The bed was empty. He surged upwards, stumbling to get his legs under him, when a very soft snuffling noise brought him back down to earth. </p>
<p>There was Yusuf, and his dog, lying on the floor under the bed. One small hand, the same one he'd first seen hiding behind a table, now clutching at the very edge of Nicky's blanket. Sleeping under its shelter, like he wanted protection, yes, but also wanted to be even with Nicky’s eyeline.</p>
<p>Like he wanted to be able to see him when he woke up. Like he wanted to be close.</p>
<p>And that reason, that reason alone, was why Nicky didn’t get to his feet. No, Yusuf needed him here. So instead, Nicky sat by the bed, put his head in his hands, and quietly- so quietly the sleeping child wouldn’t wake up- let himself cry.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Nile had expected Yusuf to be more... bouncy. He was very sweet, and affectionate and curious once he felt comfortable around them. Which seemed to take about an hour each morning (Nile was pretty sure it took him that first hour to accept that he wouldn’t be seeing his sister that day, and fuck if that didn’t kick her in the heart every time). He was intuitive and smart, he was well-behaved, but she’d kinda been prepared for him to be bouncing off the walls by day three. It was just... this was baby-Joe. She would've thought baby-Joe would've had the energy to put Pixie-stick-sugar-highs to shame.</p>
<p>But no, here they were on day five, and Yusuf surprised her by being mostly calm, content to play by himself, though his eyes always lit up when one of them asked him a question, or asked for his help with a task. Or when Andy introduced him to the concept of piggyback rides. Or whenever they brought him into the kitchen and allowed him to help cook, measuring cups of flour with the concentration of a chess master about to checkmate. When they let him taste all these foods he'd never experienced before. He relished it all. But despite all that, this evening was the first time she’d heard him laugh- really laugh, a gleeful, little-kid, delighted sound. </p>
<p>Because of <em>Booker</em>.</p>
<p>It wasn’t really all that surprising though, was it? At least, Nile wasn’t surprised. Andy and Nicky seemed a little thrown by it, but Nile had been on the receiving end of all that caring and consideration when she first turned immortal, as awkward and out-of-practice as he’d been with it. So she enjoyed watching him the last few days help out with Yusuf’s meals, kick around an oversized football with him in the backyard, sit and patiently answer- in tentative, stuttered Derja- every question Yusuf threw his way.</p>
<p>And now, three of them sat in the living room, trying desperately to pretend there was nothing noteworthy about the fact that they could hear Booker talking softly and teasingly, Yusuf giggling and carefree, and splashing water. As Booker took care of bath time.</p>
<p>Nile looked to Andy, fond but completely out of her depth, and Nicky, so in love but completely bereft, and clapped her hands together softly. “Okay,” drawing their attention to her, after a moment where they all collectively, silently agreed to never talk about this around Booker ever. “What’s the plan for tonight?”</p>
<p>Andy pulled rolled-up blueprints out from under the couch and spread them on the coffee table. “The lab changed up their shift schedules after last time, but Copley has it timed down to the minute. We hit it at five minutes to ten, get in, use one of those USB things Copley gave us, download as much as we can, plant some bugs, get out.” She looked up at them, calm, sure. “We may not even have to kill anyone this time.”</p>
<p>“That’s a good thing, Andy,” Nile reminded her. “That’s a good, <em>normal </em>thing.”</p>
<p>“Whatever,” Andy waved her away, already frowning at Nicky’s frown. “What?”</p>
<p>Nicky didn’t look up to meet her eyes, choosing instead to glare his disapproval at the blueprints. “You have me planned for sniper position.”</p>
<p>“Of course I do?” Andy’s frown didn’t let up. Nile took a few small, slow steps back out of the potential line of fire.</p>
<p>Nicky looked up then, determined. “No. I’m staying here.” His eyes strayed to the bathroom door, where they could hear the water being drained from the tub.</p>
<p>“No,” Andy was just as firm. “I need you there for lookout. I need your eyes.”</p>
<p>“Andromache-”</p>
<p>“Nicky, I can stay with-”</p>
<p>“What if it’s not him, Nicky?” That shut everyone up enough for Andy to continue. “I know it’s most likely, but what if that’s not Joe?”</p>
<p>Nile stared wide-eyed, even as Booker led Yusuf back into the room, still rubbing a towel over his damp, unruly hair. Booker took one look at the three of them and without a word lifted Yusuf up, taking him into the kitchen instead.</p>
<p>“Do you think,” Nicky began carefully, “that they kidnapped some random child off the street and fed him Joe’s memories? Taught him an eleventh century regional Arabic just in case we-”</p>
<p>“I know, Nicky, I know. But think about it- if it’s possible they did <em>this </em>to Joe, isn’t it just as possible that they- they cloned him or something? What if the kid is a copy, and <em>our </em>Joe is still strapped down at the compound somewhere? Do you really want to risk that?”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ,” Nile groaned softly, sinking down to the floor by the table. “The way your mind works, Andy, I don’t know how you-”</p>
<p>“No,” Nicky sighed and did the opposite- got stiffly to his feet. “She’s- you’re right. You’re right. You’re fighting dirty,” he pointed at Andy, “but the logic is… you’re right.”</p>
<p>Andy offered a smile for an apology, but didn’t back down. “You’re coming.” Nicky breathed out slow and deep through his nose, nodded. He moved towards where his rifle case was stashed, grabbing his jacket on the way. And then abruptly froze.</p>
<p>Nile turned to follow his gaze, saw that Yusuf had returned to the living room, Booker hastily catching up to him from the kitchen. His eyes were wide, worried, and he was staring at Nicky. “Are you leaving?” he asked, his voice wobbling a little on the word.</p>
<p>Nicky crossed the room to him quickly, kneeling down in front of him. “No, no, not for good, Yusuf.  No. We have to go somewhere for just a short while. Then we’ll come right back. Okay?”</p>
<p>Yusuf shook his head, eyes watering, but even as Nicky kept talking to him, Nile was distracted by Andy nudging at her, reaching under the couch again. This time she pulled out a plastic box and shoved it into Nile’s hands. “You’re staying here,” she said in a low voice. “Use this.”</p>
<p>Nile opened the box, spent exactly four seconds wondering just when Andy had found the time to run out and buy a coloring kit, and four more seconds wondering why none of them had thought to before now, then turned back to Nicky and Yusuf.</p>
<p>“Hey Yusuf,” she called out gently, pulling paper and colored pencils and markers out of the box, placing them on the coffee table. “Could you help me tonight? I’m staying here too, could you keep me company?”</p>
<p>Nicky threw a grateful look over his shoulder to her, then let Yusuf walk slowly, reluctantly, over to her. Nile kept her eyes on him, even as she tracked Booker out of the corner of her eye slipping past them all to the lockbox they’d been storing the weapons in, pulling on his own jacket. Resolutely not looking back at anyone in the room.</p>
<p>Nile smiled instead, trying not to make it too big or too eager or anything that would scare him away. “Would you like to draw with me? I don’t like to draw alone. I could use a friend while everyone else goes on their errand.”</p>
<p>Yusuf was biting at his lip as he approached, trying very hard to keep it from trembling. “What’s that?” he came up next to her, his fingers latching onto her sleeve as he nudged one of the boxes with his other hand.</p>
<p>She put an arm around him and gently tugged him closer to lean against her side, rubbed his back even as the others quietly made their way out. “Oh sunshine, we are going to have so much fun learning about smelly markers tonight.”</p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>Admittedly, Booker’s mind wasn’t fully on the task at hand. He barely paid attention on the drive to the compound, the breach inside, the trek to the lab. Mostly muscle memory, looking out for immediate threats, any sudden movements, backing Andy up. Knowing Nicky was perched up on a roof outside as lookout. Knowing Copley was a few hundred yards down the road surveilling.</p>
<p>Knowing the kid was back at the house thinking they’d <em>left </em>him.</p>
<p>(Thinking they were leaving him, and still not crying or throwing a tantrum or acting like any small child <em>should </em>in that situation. His own boys would have done that. His own boys <em>did </em>do that as adults as he walked away that last time. He'd thought he'd be used to it by now, the walking away, but it was a knife to the gut every time.)</p>
<p>Booker managed to stay focused just enough to watch Andy’s back as they snuck through, as they made it to the computer hub and plugged in Copley's flash drive, searched through desks and scattered folders until they found another flash from the lab and pocketed that one too, as Andy planted a few bugs in the hub, in the lab, in the break room (“all the best and truest shit gets told as gossip in a break room, Book, everyone knows that”). He came back to himself a bit more as they did a sweep of the lower levels, one last ditch search for Joe since Andy had promised Nicky.</p>
<p>(There was nothing. Of course there was nothing. Joe was… they all knew where Joe was right now. Where he wasn’t. Where he should be.)</p>
<p>They sent a quick signal towards Nicky’s perch as they snuck out to rendezvous back at Copley’s van. No chitchat along the way, no teasing, no raised eyebrows and smirks, nothing. Copley had a hand out ready and waiting when they climbed into the back, plugging the drives into his laptop before they’d even sat down.</p>
<p>“You can find a cure? Find a way to fix him?” Andy asked, peering over his shoulder as he ran through the data as though she had any hope of understanding it.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, maybe.” Copley’s eyes were glued to the screen. “Even if I do, it might be-” he paused, they all did, as the doors opened again and Nicky slid in. His face was completely impassive, even to Book, but Copley still swallowed hard and softened his voice as he went back to the data. “It might be awhile until the cure can be manufactured, and we can find someone safe to administer it.”</p>
<p>“Then what is all this?” Andy waved a hand at the laptop, glaring at it like it was the thing that had attacked them, like she could beat it into submission.</p>
<p>Booker could understand the feeling, and even as Copley kept talking, plenty to say, he refused to get his hopes up just yet. He spent more energy trying to banish the memory of the look on the kid’s face when they left than he spent listening to Copley explain the info in front of him. </p>
<p>All he wanted to do was jump into the driver’s seat and speed off, get them- get <em>Nicky</em>- back to the house and back to the kid. For Nicky. And for the kid. Obviously for them.</p>
<p>“It’ll take another three hours at least for me to get through the data,” Copley swung around to look at all of them for the first time. “If we all go back and split up the output tonight, I can have-”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>They all turned to Nicky, who still had that impassive, overly calm look on his face. “No what?” Copley asked cautiously.</p>
<p>“You’re not coming back to the house. We’re not risking it.” Nicky stood up from his crouch and opened the back again, jumping out and standing in the open door, gesturing for Andy and Booker to follow him. “We don’t need to expose him to any more unknowns.”</p>
<p>Copley softened yet again, nodded. “I understand.”</p>
<p>“It’s not that I think poorly of you,” Nicky explained anyway. “And I trust you with our lives, yes, but <em>our </em>lives. Not his. His, right now, is different.” Andy smiled, maybe a little sadly, and nodded too, started climbing out after him.</p>
<p>“I understand, Nicky. I do,” Copley repeated. He ejected the flash drive they'd stolen from the lab and handed it over to Booker. “I’ve already made copies of everything. Take this one, have Nile download the data at your place. Look it over for anything- <em>anything</em>- that seems... important.”</p>
<p>“We will,” Booker nodded his thanks, suddenly just as eager as Nicky to get out of there, get back to the house. “Call me as soon as you find something.” Not if, but when. They did trust Copley on that.</p>
<p>Copley nodded back, almost an apology for not having solved it already, and climbed into the driver’s seat. He was off and away before they got back to their own car.</p>
<p>“So I guess this means you trust me,” Booker tried to make it sound like a joke, self-deprecating at least, as he and Nicky stowed their guns in the back. Off Nicky’s questioning look, “With the kid. The reasons you don’t trust Copley are the same reasons you could not trust me, you know.”</p>
<p>“It’s not the same at all,” Andy called out, already starting the car. “Now get your asses in here so we can get back.”</p>
<p>Nicky still looked confused, almost startled, as he slipped into the passenger seat. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to let you around Yusuf?”</p>
<p>Booker shrugged, even though Nicky was facing forward and wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thought crossed my mind, is all. There’s a lot of bad history.” Pretty much all of Booker’s history was bad history. Mortal, immortal, didn’t really matter there.</p>
<p>Nicky nodded, more to himself, and kept his gaze out the window. “Which is why this has been good for you. Both of you.”</p>
<p>He sucked in a breath, hoped he did it quietly enough that they didn’t hear, knew he hadn’t. “Both of-”</p>
<p>“You were a good father, Sebastien,” Nicky said softly. But resolutely, the way he said most things. “You were a good father, and Yusuf didn’t have one. I think it’s good you both get to have this now.”</p>
<p>It would’ve been less painful if Nicky had held a knife to his throat. Booker swallowed carefully, like that was actually the case, and breathed deep. Slow. Because if he breathed any faster, he’d make some noise. And any noise he’d make would be mortifying. So would looking down and confirming that his hands were possibly shaking.</p>
<p>And he definitely didn’t look in Andy’s direction.</p>
<p>The rest of the ride was thankfully silent and thankfully quick, and Nicky just offered a small smile as they climbed out of the car, nothing more. He might’ve been a little relieved at that, but it was nothing compared to the (completely surprising) relief he felt when they stepped back into the house and saw Nile and the kid there safe and sound.</p>
<p>Nile had him sitting in her lap with one of her art books open in front of them. Judging by the cadence of her voice, Booker guessed she was making up a story based on a painting- the closest they had to a picture book in the house. He made a mental note to go shopping again tomorrow, get some books and puzzles, maybe something… educational? Something to help with-</p>
<p>And then he stopped again, had to breathe deeply.</p>
<p>Because.</p>
<p>Just how much planning for this child’s <em>future</em> was he supposed to do?</p>
<p>He was pulled out of darker thoughts by the door shutting with a hard <em>click </em>behind them, causing both of the sofa’s occupants to look up eagerly. “Hey,” Nile barely had time to close the book before the kid was scrambling off her lap and running up to them. And then- then stopping right at some invisible line as he got up close, looking all three of them over intently, almost vibrating with the effort it took to contain himself. Not stepping over that line.</p>
<p>And in that moment, Booker let himself think the thing (one of the things) he’d been avoiding for the past few days. He just… he really fucking missed Joe. Because this little kid came running up to them, and he could feel that he wanted to hug them, wanted them to hug him, but kept back. But Joe? Joe wouldn’t have hesitated.</p>
<p>Nile swooped in to save the day (or at least his sanity for the time being), picking the kid up and perching him on her hip, bringing him up even with Nicky. “See, Yusuf? They’re back, and they’re okay.”</p>
<p>Nicky smiled and leaned in close to touch their foreheads together, allowed small hands to reach up and latch onto the straps of his Kevlar vest. “Just like we promised.” </p>
<p>Very wide eyes, still suspicious, still hesitant, scanned all three of them again. “The bad men didn’t get you?”</p>
<p>“No, of course not, sunshine,” Andy stepped in next, got close enough for him to trace at her vest too, like he needed to do some sort of spot inspection. “We were completely safe. Still are. So are you.” </p>
<p>Everyone kind of paused then, and Booker realized they were all waiting for him to join in. Uncomfortable at doing this with an audience, he still reached out and lightly ruffled his hair. “Did you have a good night?”</p>
<p>The kid nodded, but the worry and the need to wait up for them had already taken its toll, because he went quickly from alert to blinking heavily, yawning, and Nile was even quicker to act on it. “Come on, we can talk all about it in the morning. Bedtime for sleepy artists, okay?” she jostled him playfully, causing him to smile up at her, and she wasted little time in carrying him back to his and Nicky’s room, just long enough for him to clumsily wave at the rest of them over her shoulder. </p>
<p>Nicky and Booker set about the regular post-mission routine (ignoring that Andy took a second to wave back before joining them)- Booker storing the weapons, Nicky pulling a meal together. Booker had just finished up his part when Nile slid back in, shutting the bedroom door behind her. “Man, he is going to sleep so hard tonight. Flat out refused to go to bed until you guys got back. Did you know he could refuse us? I was beginning to wonder.”</p>
<p>“He was okay otherwise?” Andy asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Took a little bit to settle after you left, but the coloring stuff was a stroke of genius, Andy. So what about you guys, did you- oh.” Nile stopped.</p>
<p>Booker stopped too, turned to look at her. She was looking at Nicky, a little bit of a smile on her face. Nicky, however, was looking down at the dinner table, food forgotten. He was holding a few loose sheets of paper in his hands, eyes just a little bit wider and more expressive than Booker was used to seeing on him.</p>
<p>Nile sidled up next to him, close, spreading the food out for him. “He really likes colored pencils, Nicky. Like, really likes them. Really-really likes them.”</p>
<p>And there was a part of Booker that knew exactly what he’d see when he got close, but it didn’t stop him. Nicky realized he and Andy had joined them and in a very unconscious echo of Booker in the car, cleared his throat weakly and looked away, stepped back, leaving the papers out on the table.</p>
<p>There was a drawing of two women and a bearded man, wearing what he guessed were headscarves instead of hair. Another of some of the horses he’d made friends with the other day (and how he didn't lose a finger to that spotted, devilish one, Booker will never know), and what was probably the stuffed dog. One of the back garden and its two big trees. And one... one of what seemed to be two women and two men, and a boy.</p>
<p>“It’s not exactly an al-Kaysani masterpiece,” Nile commented lightly from where she’d stepped back too. “I mean, he has Andy smiling. He’s still got so much to learn about accurate portraits.”</p>
<p>“Asshole,” Andy laughed a little. Somewhat. Tapped the edge of the paper with a finger and shook her head. Her voice wavering, “I’m going to give him so much shit for this when he’s back to normal,” she decided.</p>
<p>And Booker, at the same time, quietly and without letting on, decided he wasn’t.<br/><br/></p>
<p>***</p>
<p><br/>When Copley called early the next morning, Booker was pretty sure they were all surprised at the tension, the anticipation, that hit them. They checked that the kid was happily distracted with pencils and paper again, and huddled around Booker’s phone in the kitchen.</p>
<p>“It’s not exactly good news-bad news, but it’s close,” Copley began. “Between the data and what our bugs have picked up, I’m confident I know what they’re up to. And what they did to Joe.”</p>
<p>“Which is?” Andy prompted, steeling herself, that hard look already on her face.</p>
<p>“The aging process. The mammalian aging process, they’re trying to halt it or reverse it. Possibly both. I don’t know how they found out about your immortality, whether from something related to Merrick or from your previous recon-”</p>
<p>Nile looked away sharply, and Nicky was right there next to her, bringing her back with a murmured. “Don’t, don’t. It’s not your fault.”</p>
<p>“-But they tried to use Joe’s blood and genome sequences for the latest formula. And he apparently became so uncooperative that they decided to try it on him rather than their regular test subjects.”</p>
<p>“Their regular test subjects being kidnapped teenagers,” Andy pointed out, at the same time that Nicky let out a faint, pained chuckle at ‘uncooperative.’ And it was Nile’s turn to hug him back.</p>
<p>Booker stayed very still and very silent while all of it went on. He’d positioned himself so he could keep an eye on the kid in the other room and watched him now, blissfully unaware of what was going on, taking great care and great enjoyment out of some simple little thing. Nile had insisted on sticking the other drawings up on the refrigerator, in that tone that meant something purposeful from her own childhood, and the look of awe and giddy surprise on the kid's face when he saw them displayed that morning... it was all that kept Booker from exploding right now.</p>
<p>“Wait, is that supposed to be the good or bad news?” Nile asked, her own mood back under control.</p>
<p>Copley sighed over the phone. “I don’t know. The other bit is that they’re trying to track you all down. I think they want him back. There’s been chatter about mobilizing another strike team. A retrieval team.”</p>
<p>The four of them looked at each other, a few dozen ideas and plans running between them unspoken. Andy cocked her head to the side, taking lead. “They’d have to work hard to find the location since we moved,” she started. “But it might not be a bad idea to bug out for a few days.”</p>
<p>Nicky said nothing, but his jaw tightened. As did Nile’s hand on his arm. “Are you sure?” she asked for the both of them.</p>
<p>Andy sighed. “No. But what if we interrupted whatever they did to Joe, and there’s more to him they still want to do? What if they want to make it worse somehow? Or what if... shit, fully-grown Joe locked up in there was bad enough. But a four-year-old getting experimented on, shut away from the world, for however long-”</p>
<p>“We can’t leave, though,” Booker finally spoke up, finally dragged his eyes away from the figure in the living room back to the rest of them.</p>
<p>“Book-”</p>
<p>“We can’t,” he insisted, locking eyes with Nicky. Of all of them, Nicky needed to understand. And looked like he already did, thank God. “That lab is probably the only way to cure him.” He swallowed hard, steeled himself for the next question, “Can we risk leaving now, and lose our only chance to get him back?”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Heartfelt angst-fluff one-on-one conversations, coming your way!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Yusuf had invented a game. Nile wasn’t totally sure of the rules, but she sat and watched with what was probably a silly grin on her face as he ran around the backyard collecting acorns. Then ran around again digging little holes to plant some of them, ran around again to put others in a pile by her boots, then ran around <em>again</em> to start the process all over again.</p>
<p>Her boots, of course, set in a neat line next to his "just in case" shoes on the patio- because they finally found the line to cross that would get Yusuf really obstinate and grumpy with them (he even stomped his foot and <em>glared</em> good <em>God, </em>and if they hadn't known the Derja word for 'no' before, they definitely did <em>now</em> good <em>God</em>), and it was trying to stop him from running around barefoot in the grass. </p>
<p>“Do we think there’s a logic to the number he plants?” Nicky asked, sitting himself down next to her on the little bit of concrete patio by the door.</p>
<p>“Do we think he was a squirrel in another life?” she asked right back.</p>
<p>He smiled, and then smiled some more when Yusuf ran up to them, offering Nicky one of his acorns. “Thank you,” Nicky said so unbelievably sincerely, closing his hand around it and holding the fist against his heart.</p>
<p>Yusuf brightened even more somehow, the way he did when Nicky especially paid attention to him. Or when Nicky especially did anything, really. “You’re welcome!” and then was off again.</p>
<p>Nile almost sighed at the cuteness, at how it was almost cute enough to make her forget the absolutely shitshow that was actually going on. “How are you holding up?” Speaking of...</p>
<p>Nicky looked like he was also trying not to think about reality. “Not... completely well.”</p>
<p>“Big ol’ understatement?” she clarified. Because he was doing that thing. Not the 'lost in his own head thing' that only Joe or Andy could bring him out of, where his eyes got so faraway and faint, and not the 'hiding how I'm feeling to spare you' thing where his jaw clenched around a gentle smile. Nope, this was the 'help, I don't even fucking know' thing, and Nile still wasn't sure of the details or remedies yet. Beyond growing baby-Joe into adult-Joe again, at least</p>
<p>“Very,” he smiled despite himself. At least she could still make him smile, right?</p>
<p>Nile pressed her shoulder against his, he pressed back, and they watched Yusuf play for a little longer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?” she asked softly, but not really as tentative. She thought she might be getting better at that- asking these kinds of personal things without feeling like it was overstepping anymore. Because it wasn't, it was <em>sharing</em>, and that was a <em>good</em> thing.</p>
<p>Nicky took his time thinking about that, watching Yusuf try to climb the tree for more acorns (and fail, landing with a thump and a soft 'oof' on the ground. And then a glance at Nicky and Nile, checking. And then, when they didn't try to stop him, attempting to climb again). “Not before meeting Joe, no.”</p>
<p>Which was an answer that delighted her to no end, and she tried desperately to hide it. “But then you saw him and thought he was so hot and wanted to have his babies?”</p>
<p>Nicky laughed. “Yes, it was Joe's <em>hotness</em> and not the blood loss that caused me to swoon that day. That was it.” Then he softened, shook his head. “It was more that... before Joe, I hadn’t thought of the future as having possibilities. Everything had been very planned and locked in for me. Very confined."</p>
<p>"Because of your parents?" She'd been rocked by the real story of Joe's childhood, so different than what she'd imagined. At first, at least. But that night, thinking about it, about how much faith and effort Joe put into this group, how his idea of family had maybe always been based on something other than the conventional, and the importance he placed on created bonds instead of pre-conceived ones...</p>
<p>It did kinda make sense, didn't it? </p>
<p>Which brought her back to Nicky. Solid, steady, morally strong and fervently devoted to everything good and right in the world (and to this group), Nicky. Who was rolling an acorn between his fingers, staring down towards it, but not at it. More at something really far away. "I didn't care about much of anything, as a child. Or a young man, really. I didn't want for much, so I didn't desire much either. My family was a part of the system of things," a soft laugh, "They were a system unto themselves, and we all had our place. Every piece of my life was structured. Beyond my control."</p>
<p>"They were...?" she trailed off, not even sure of how she was going to end the question. The one story she knew about his family was him and Joe tracking down his younger brother's family decades after the Crusades. Branca, she thought his name was. The story had been all caper-y and fun-sounding, trailing Nicky's now-grown nephews, trying to be discreet and failing nearly every time in increasingly ridiculous ways. Ways that even made Andy laugh when they re-told the stories now. But maybe there was more to the story? Maybe more questions now than she had thought?</p>
<p>And Nicky figured out an answer anyway. "My family- my parents, my brothers, me- we were of the time. And of the rank. Not cold, necessarily, not loveless. I was always taken care of. But just always in our place. It was all... perfectly fine. Which is its own kind of suffocating, yes? I never felt like I really <em>knew</em> them, or myself. And they definitely never knew me. I went into the church because it was the right move for me, and maybe I threw myself into that devotion because it meant I could feel <em>something</em>, and I convinced myself that I shouldn't ever want more than I already had." </p>
<p>"And then you died."</p>
<p>And if that phrase could make anyone smile fondly, it would be this weird ass group of people. "Yes. And then I woke up, and then there was Joe,” he paused and held out his hand as Yusuf can running by with another acorn for him, “and being with him was the first time I looked forward to the future. To the infinite possibilities. Felt like I was allowed to have them.”</p>
<p>“Like having a family together?” Nile asked, accepting her own acorn from Yusuf with a smile and a ruffle to his hair, a gesture he’d really seemed to respond well to.</p>
<p>“We have a family together now, Nile,” he nodded back at the house, nudged her shoulder. “But yes, we’ve talked about it in the past. About what it would be like. It’s just not something we can do with this life.”</p>
<p>Nile conceded that. She understood. “But what if you both go mortal at the same time? Would you...?”</p>
<p>Nicky took his time answering again. Yusuf stopped running around then and was now arranging himself confidently in Nicky’s lap as though he'd been doing it all his life (which... in a way...? maybe...?), talking quietly to his dog, scattering one of his piles of acorns into some methodical pattern on the ground. Nicky smiled a very small smile. “It doesn’t seem quite so daunting a thing anymore.”</p>
<p>“I think you’ll both be great at it,” she smiled, didn’t bother trying to hide it. “To be fair, though, I think any kid that biologically comes from <em>both </em>of you is going to be a hundred times more stubborn and ridiculous than our little guy here.”</p>
<p>Nicky laughed, reaching down to ruffle Yusuf’s hair too when he looked up curiously at the sound. “Nile is teasing me,” he explained softly before going back to English. “He would be too, I think, if he wasn’t still so unsure of his place. Getting him to allow us to take care of him, let him play and be a child despite this... that’s been a pretty big step in itself.”</p>
<p>Nile startled for a second, only half-watching as Nicky took the stuffed dog and had it jump on Yusuf, making him giggle and try to wrestle it back out of Nicky’s hand. The rest of her was thinking back to last week, to when they got back from their now ill-fated (not her fault, not her fault, not her fault) recon trip. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay, couple more steps…” Nile paused for a minute, readjusted her grip as their car automatically locked behind them, and started forward again. “Almost there.” No response. “Joe?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“‘Here, sorry, here,” he waved the hand that had previously been holding onto her shoulder, holding her up as much as she’d been doing for him. “I’m okay.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, yep, totally. You seem it.” She gambled with their collective balance for a second, letting go in order to open the front door. “You sure we shouldn’t’ve just gotten a hotel somewhere closer for the night and come back in the morning?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No thank you.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>She laughed a little, couldn’t help it. At least he was still Joe in there somewhere, she didn’t have to be worried. “Be honest- only thing keeping you going right now is the promise of sleeping in your own bed tonight.” And probably sleeping </em>with<em>-</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes please.” His eyes were starting to close again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She laughed a little more, jostled him just enough to get his eyes back open, nearly fell over at the movement herself. Stupid dumb lack of balance.“M’kay well, you’re going to have to wait for your teddy bear, looks like.” She kept an eye out as they staggered across the little living room towards the bedrooms. “Shit, they better be back soon.” Nile really hoped they’d gotten the message she’d hastily sent before destroying her burner phone. Really hoped their recon had been more uneventful than her and Joe’s. Really-really hoped it was uneventful enough that they were bringing food. She hadn’t eaten in two days, and honestly, inanimate objects were starting to morph into cartoon turkey legs in front of her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Or that could be hallucinations from the two or three nights without sleep. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A real “either-or” situation there. Yay.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Which one of’m is my teddy bear?” Joe asked, reaching ahead and grasping the doorframe, using it to help propel them forward as they turned into the second bedroom on the right.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She cackled, giddy and hysterical now that they were totally, officially, safe. “Oh God, now I really hope it’s Andy.” Joe laughed too, but the sound came out as an empty rush of air. For a second it reminded her of the sound he’d made yesterday when a knife had been stabbed into his back, and she nearly let her head get dragged back to there. </em>
</p>
<p><em>What was supposed to have been a three day recon trip had turned into an eight day siege, her and Joe stuck in a little one-room hunting cabin while the strike team tried- and tried, and tried some more- to kill them. Their food had run out about halfway through, and grenades and gunfire came at all hours of the day and night. They took shifts, but even then Joe barely slept at all, and that, coupled with the lack of food, meant he was dropping fast now that the job was done and the adrenaline was gone. Nile was definitely not that far behind him. She'd never been this close to a literal interpretation of her legs feeling like jelly. Or worse than jelly. Syrup? No boot camp or induction maneuver had ever been like this. Ever. It </em>sucked<em>.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay,” she said more to herself than to him, “can you make it just a little farther for me? Then sleep.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“For you?” he offered a bleary smile. “Anyth- oh,” and then he stumbled right out of her grip, thankfully landing on the bed. “Ow.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, shit,” she blew out a breath, tossing her braids back over her shoulder and then dropping to her knees on the floor- on purpose. Really. “You okay?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yep.” A beat of silence. “Tired.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She let herself laugh again. He was fine, they both were- the actual sucky part was over. “You’re good now, Joe. Go to sleep. Okay?” She reached out as he curled onto the mattress, started unlacing his boots for him. “We’re all good.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you- No, Nile, what’re you- I can…” he pushed himself up again, trying to reach for her hands.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Joe, honey, seriously, go to sleep. I got this,” she tried to smack his hands away, but he was holding onto consciousness by his fingertips even as he tried to stop her. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, y’don’t have to-”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“No, </em>you <em>don’t have to. I swear to God, sometimes you are so-” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Laughter interrupted her scolding, and she looked over her shoulder to see Nicky and Andy in the doorway, arms full of groceries. Andy just shook her head, transferring both of her bags to one hand so she could take Nicky’s from him. “You both good?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She couldn’t help but smile, the relief and peace that only came when they were in one place together. “Mostly, yeah. Just some dumbass here hasn’t slept in like a week and snuck the last of his food into my pack and we- hey, don’t you dare shake your head at me, al-Kaysani, I know you did it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky snorted a laugh as he came up to the bed, laying the back of his hand against Joe’s forehead, the side of his face. Joe looked up at him, instantly softening, instantly adoring. “Hi. I’m fine.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hi. I heard something about that, yes,” Nicky sat down on the bed, shuffling around until he was sitting behind Joe, propping him up against him. “I also heard you should be sleeping.” He nodded just slightly to Nile, and she smirked a little as she went back to Joe’s boots, able to untie and slip them off with Joe now properly distracted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky managed to get Joe’s sweater off of him, leaving him shivering a little in a thin t-shirt, turning into the warmth Nicky provided. “Nile called me ‘honey,’” he mumbled into Nicky’s neck. “Is that bad?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky laughed again, openly, the way he only laughed because of Joe. “Did she now?” he raised a teasing eyebrow in her direction.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She mock-glared, squeezing Joe’s knee as she used it push herself back up to standing. “And she very much regrets it.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Joe managed to reach out and snag her hand before she fully pulled away, shake it lazily. “Gonna eat?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug him or smack him (she’d done a lot of both in the last week), but settled for patting his hand somewhat soothingly, somewhat awkwardly. “I am, I promise. Get some sleep, and then when you wake up we can have second breakfast together. Okay?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He probably answered, but it was drowned out by a yawn, and he was already turning more into Nicky’s embrace. Dropping off into sleep. Finally. Hopefully. She waited, then looked to Nicky. “Do you need me to bring you some-?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky shook his head, smile much more calm and content now. “Andy’s probably already taking care of it. Soup is one thing she’s very good at it, it’ll be best for both your stomachs. Go eat and rest, Nile. You need it too.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She stuttered a little, as she always did when one of them focused their care on her so intently, then leaned close for a second to squeeze his shoulder, then Joe’s. Nicky squeezed back with his free hand, his other laying across the top of Joe’s head, holding him close.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nile let the image, sweet and warm, carry her into the kitchen.</em>
</p>
<p>“You know, I’ve never really noticed it before. Till now, I guess,” she said. “But, like, why you stayed awake that night we got back from recon. Why you’re so good at distracting him.”</p>
<p>Nicky smiled kindly at her, seemed to already know exactly where she was going with this. “I did, yes. And I am.”</p>
<p>Well it was good he understood, because she was still kinda puzzling it out. “He’s always open and emotional about stuff, throwing jokes and smiles around, you don’t even really realize he doesn’t let people- besides you, I guess- take care of him. Or, I don't know, maybe not take care of. Maybe just see him as someone who needs it...?”</p>
<p>“A centuries-long battle I’m still fighting sometimes,” he said fondly. He tightened his arms around Yusuf a fraction as the breeze picked up around them and Yusuf huddled in closer to him. He brushed a kiss on the top of his head. “Of course, he’s always fighting the same one for me, so I can’t complain.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay if you do, you know. Want to complain,” Nile nudged some more acorns Yusuf’s way, keeping him from noticing Nicky’s sudden mood change. “Things are pretty complaint-worthy right now.”</p>
<p>Nicky sighed, letting his eyes settle on Yusuf again. “He’s so good. He doesn’t cause any trouble, he doesn’t act out. Today’s the first day I didn’t have to trick him into playing by-”</p>
<p>“-By pretending to need his help with something first,” Nile finished for him. She’d noticed that too. Asking for his help with the horses, with taking care of the dog, or keeping one of them company. He’d wanted to be helpful before he could have fun himself. It was hard, a little bit, to compare to the Joe she knew, who was always the one at her elbow, nudging her to take time for herself, to enjoy something, to indulge in something frivolous if it made her happy. Who could accidentally miss two meals and a mission planning meeting because he was intent on sketching that bird with the blue feathers <em>exactly</em> right.</p>
<p>“He’s being so brave. And I-” Nicky paused for a minute, evening out his voice before Yusuf could notice. “I feel more than a little guilty that I just want Joe back more than anything. More than him. That if- <em>when</em>- we get Joe back, it means directly losing him, and I would let that happen.”</p>
<p>“There’s nothing to feel guilty about, Nicky,” Nile tried. “They’re the same person, no one’s gonna think you don’t love one or the other.”</p>
<p>Nicky shook his head. “If I’m willing to do anything to get Joe back, why am I okay with putting Joe’s wellbeing before a defenseless child’s? Will Joe... approve, when he finds out what I did?”</p>
<p>“You didn’t <em>do </em>anything, it’s not like you have to choose. This Joe already happened, right? Just because he won’t be here anymore, it doesn’t mean he’s <em>gone</em>-gone. Or dead. Or that you want to get rid of him.” She offered a smile. “I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with Joe in some form or another for the rest of your life. Destiny and all that, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Nicky huffed out a weak laugh. “Destiny.”</p>
<p>She waited a few seconds until she had his full attention again. “You know what I’m going to say next, right? My closing argument, my big one, that’s totally going to convince you not to feel bad about yourself?”</p>
<p>He almost laughed again. “‘You know if Joe was sitting here in your place, and you in his, he’d be feeling the same way, and you’d want someone to tell him the same things I’m telling you, because they’re <em>true</em>,’” his accent stopped it from being a <em>perfect </em>impression of Nile, but it was still pretty good.</p>
<p>"See? Always knew you were a smart one." She waited a couple minutes, found a few more scattered acorns to add to Yusuf's pile, before venturing out with, "Have you ever come back to life in front of someone? Someone not us?"</p>
<p>Nicky turned to her, his movement almost sharp if not for the kid in his lap. "Nile. You can't keep thinking that way."</p>
<p>She shook her head. "Have you?"</p>
<p>"Of course I have," Nicky ducked his head a little to make sure and hold her gaze. "We all have. It happens, no matter how careful you are or how long you've been doing it. It wasn't a rookie mistake, Nile."</p>
<p>She flinched. Maybe that's what she'd been thinking the whole time? There was a weird part of her, now that they had Yusuf, that had relished not being the baby of the group anymore. Which made her doubly hate herself, as though she'd wished this on Joe somehow, or because that strike team seeing her come back to life <em>had</em> to be the reason they'd been tracked and Joe had been taken.</p>
<p>"They could have just as easily seen Joe come back to life," Nicky wrecked her train of thought. "When they attacked, they shot at both of us, but they only took him. They left me. Killed me, and took him when I couldn't help him. They went for us instead of you three because we were out in the open. Because I had dragged Joe out into the open."</p>
<p>"It's not your-"</p>
<p>"Oh, I know it's not my fault. I know it's on them. You should too. The thing is, bad things- accidental or not- are going to happen, and you're going to learn to let the things you can't control go."</p>
<p>"Things like this?" she nodded to the child in Nicky's lap, the one currently building an acorn fence around his toy dog.</p>
<p>Nicky watched him for a moment, his eyes soft again. "We can't go back and change anything that's already happened. If you let that notion consume you, if you let yourself think you <em>can</em>, you'll never be at rest. That's no way to live, Nile. You have to let go of that. I know I can't change what's already happened to him. But I guess I can make him safe and happy now, and work to get him back to being Joe. Better to let that take over my every waking thought than the what-ifs."</p>
<p>"Because otherwise...?"</p>
<p>Nicky shook his head, smiled as Yusuf scattered the acorns back onto the grass and brought his dog back into his lap. "Because otherwise, all I'd do is think about how I might never see my husband again and scream my throat bloody."</p>
<p>She slid in close to him again, their arms pressed together, resting her head on his shoulder. And then smiled down at Yusuf when he toppled over still half in Nicky’s lap to hug her leg, the closest bit of her to him. She just barely kept from laughing when he knocked his forehead against her knee- either he'd picked it up from Nicky or there was a little of Joe still in him, because he'd been doing that a lot lately, whenever any of them were in head-bonking reach. Brushing her hand through his curls a few times, “This little guy belongs back with his family. And our Joe belongs with us. That's- that's what <em>is</em> going to happen. Not because of destiny. Because we can make it happen.”</p>
<p>Nicky placed his hand over hers, squeezed. "See? Always knew you were a smart one."</p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>Andy smiled at the heavy footsteps behind her and held out a hand, nodding when the whiskey was placed in it before Booker took a seat next to her. “No storytime tonight?” she unscrewed the top and took a healthy (for a mortal) swig from the bottle.</p>
<p>“Nicky wanted to do it. I think he and Nile had one of those talks today,” Booker leaned back in the chair and propped up his feet on the porch railing, looking out at the fields and definitely not at her.</p>
<p>“A reaffirming heart-to-heart talk?”</p>
<p>“That’d be the one,” he snorted a little, shaking his head. But it was fond, even if neither of them would point that out.</p>
<p>“Yeah, we’re too good for that shit, aren’t we Book?” she mirrored his stance, crossing her ankles at the railing.</p>
<p>“Never been more well-adjusted in my life, Boss, can’t you tell?” He eyed her a little warily though, even more so when she offered him a drink. </p>
<p>“Then I need your opinion on something.” She steeled herself, continued on. Hoped she’d get the words out right and in the right order, considering this was the first time she’d be saying them out loud. “If he’s mortal now, and we can’t change him back, if it’s permanent, I’m going to find a place for us to settle down.”</p>
<p>Booker froze for a fraction of a second, then took another pull from the bottle. “‘Us’ as in…?”</p>
<p>“As in me and Yusuf,” Andy was resolute, found herself getting more and more sure as she kept talking. “I’m not kidding anyone, myself included. I’ll have to retire at some point, at least from the physical shit. I’m not about to become a liability to the rest of you. And he’s- he’s still a part of my team. He’s still one of mine, even like this. So maybe… I don’t know.” She took the bottle back and took a drink. “A place like this. Horses, space to run around. Some place safe, Copley could set up security measures. Maybe a real dog. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”</p>
<p>She didn’t look at him, but silently dared him to tease her, to make light of this, or the other way- to argue how incredibly incompetent she’d be as a- “I think it’d be better than ‘not bad,’ Andy.” </p>
<p>She did look at him then, twisting her neck so fast it almost cracked. “No you don’t.”</p>
<p>He was looking at her too, only slightly sad. Much more sincere, more… goddamnit, he was still <em>fond </em>looking. “You think any of us don’t know you wouldn’t protect that kid with your life?” Without letting her answer, “We do. And we know you’d be a good teacher, and a good provider and- and good family.” Booker offered her a smile. “Out of all the possible ways this could go, Nicky would accept this before most others. He’d trust you.”</p>
<p>Andy nodded, looked away again, took another drink. “Since we are having our own heart-to-heart-”</p>
<p>“Oh God, Boss, no. Don’t you fucking dare-”</p>
<p>“You’re really good with him. You’ve been good with him in ways the rest of us don’t know how to be.” She handed over the bottle. “And whether he’s stuck as Yusuf for awhile longer or wakes up in the middle of the night as Joe again, that’s not something we’re likely to forget.”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” he mumbled, taking a long- very long- drink himself.</p>
<p>"I hope he won't either. When he's grown again. You know if you ever acted this affectionate with adult-Joe his head would explode from pure happiness." Not even really kidding there, and again- they both knew it.</p>
<p>"Andy-"</p>
<p>"Book." And she turned to him fully, feet down on the ground. "The bullshit? This bullshit? Cut it."</p>
<p>He flinched, but she was encouraged that he didn't try to hide that from her. Even better when he blurted out, "I can't stop comparing him to my children. It's a shit thing to do." Another drink, and she didn't dare stop him. "Not comparing like one's better than the other. More like... like why I am getting this chance to do things the right way now? Why didn't I get it with them?"</p>
<p>Andy shook her head. "Who says you did it the wrong way back then?"</p>
<p>He snorted. Loudly. "You did."</p>
<p>She took the bottle back, if just for a second. "No, not about that I didn't. Not that far back. I told you- and I still think I was right, by the way- not to go back after you died. You weren't in a place to handle it then. But you did go back, and shit happened, and here we are. That has nothing to do with how you raised your kids. I know you were good with them. You're good with Yusuf, and you don't even <em>want</em> to be." She let him take the bottle back. </p>
<p>"It's not that I don't want to be," he argued quietly. Ashamed, she could hear it. "They died screaming at me. Cursing at me. Hating me. And there's this ticking timer in the back of my brain now, wondering how long it takes the kid to do the same. When's the point that I screw up with him?" A slow, heavy, burdened breath. Then he repeated, "It's not that I don't want to be. It's that I feel like if I do a good job with him, it means I could've done better with them."</p>
<p>And there it was. "I know." She grabbed at his shoulder instead of the bottle. "But it's bullshit. You're not betraying anyone- your boys, this boy, Joe, Nicky, anyone, by being good for him. No one- and I mean <em>no one</em>- thinks that. And at some point you should probably start referring to him by his name instead of just ‘the kid’ all the time,” she finished with. “Yeah, didn’t think we’d caught onto that, did you?”</p>
<p>“Shut up.” He handed the bottle back, she drank, passed it back to him. They went back and forth a few times before he spoke again. “It feels wrong without him here.”</p>
<p>It was his way of saying he missed Joe, in that ‘let me speak around the emotions’ way of his. She reached out, bypassed the bottle again, and draped her hand around the back of his neck. “I know.” Because she missed him too.</p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>“<em>He was afraid for the minute; but it is impossible for a mongoose to stay frightened for any length of time, and he knew that all a grown mongoose's business in life was to fight and eat snakes. Nag knew that too, and at the bottom of his cold heart he was afraid</em>.” Andy eyed Yusuf as she turned the page, but he was still listening with rapt attention, eyes shiny and excited. So much for a quick bedtime. </p>
<p>She was still amazed Yusuf even responded to her so well, it’s not like she was all that… warm, or anything, but it was Nicky who’d suggested something about her or her voice must remind him of his sisters. Andy decided not to follow that train of thought, how it made her feel. How Nicky’s ‘destiny’ had somehow decided she would always be seen as family by these guys, even if Joe never became...</p>
<p>Nope. She kept reading, “<em>‘Well,’ said Rikki-tikki, and his tail began to fluff up again, ‘marks or no marks, do you think it is right for you to eat fledglings out of a nest?’ </em>” Storytime had fallen to her tonight, as Nile and Booker had run out for supplies and Nicky was busy cooking up extra meals for the week. All in case they had to bug out on short notice.</p>
<p>“<em>Nag was thinking to himself, and knew that mongooses in the garden meant death sooner or later for him and his family, but he wanted to get Rikki-tikki off his guard.</em>” To be honest she probably could’ve gotten him to sleep and gotten out of the room faster than this if she really tried, but something... something was telling her not to tonight. She couldn’t tell if it was sentimental instincts or protective ones, but something had her stay right here. “<em>Let us talk,’ he said. ‘You eat eggs. Why should not I eat birds? </em>’”</p>
<p>Noise outside the front of the house. Nile and Booker must be back. “<em>‘Behind you! Look behind you!’ sang Darzee. Rikki-tikki knew better than to waste time-”</em></p>
<p>There were more than two pairs of footsteps outside. “Yusuf.” She snapped the book shut. His eyes immediately went to hers, still wide but now confused, scared. She didn’t have time to soothe it away. “Do you remember what you’re supposed to do if I tell you to hide? Do you remember where to go?” </p>
<p>He nodded, reluctantly letting go of his stuffed dog so he could climb out of the bed. She felt a twinge of regret at him losing that tiny bit of comfort, this weird-stupid-fluffy addition to their home this past week, but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She could hear Nicky moving fast in the living room now, towards their storage locker of guns. </p>
<p>Andy nodded back, trying to piece together how many people she could hear, how many reloads she would need. How long they’d need to hold them off until Nile and Booker got back. Whether they should just grab Yusuf and go- No, there was noise from the back, too. They were surrounded.</p>
<p>She cupped Yusuf’s face with both hands, made him look at her. “The bad men are here, Yusuf. Hide. Now.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I could NOT think of a better story for Andy to pick for bedtime than Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. Legit couldn't. (Also, I don't think I've read it since watching the cartoon movie as a kid? And hoo boy, that shit is DARK?)</p>
<p>Anyway. Thanks for sticking with this weirdo story so far :) One more chapter to go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some content warning for child endangerment and some violence, but then a big ol' fluff warning for the end :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>She cupped Yusuf’s face with both hands, made him look at her. “The bad men are here, Yusuf. Hide. Now.”</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Andy didn’t wait to watch him go, but listened with half an ear as he scrambled into the bathroom, back into the crawlspace behind the cabinet she had showed him their second day here. “Good boy,” she murmured, pulling one of her boot knives free, needing something to hold her over- to hold onto- until she got a gun or her labrys. She was actually looking forward to using the axe, she’d kept it locked away for the most part since they acquired Yusuf. At least it was something to look forward to.</p>
<p>But that was the last of her good luck and good faith, apparently. She only made it into the living room a few seconds before the strike team did. “Nicky,” she yelled out as the windows were smashed and the door was kicked in. He was already moving, tossing her labrys at her and kicking a case across the floor in her direction at the same time. She stopped the case with her foot, caught the axe on a spin to take out the first wave of men approaching, then landed in a crouch to open the case with her free hand, yanking one of its guns free.</p>
<p>She knew Nicky was fighting somewhere near the front door still, she could hear the mix of a Glock and a sword cutting through the air, could hear the contact bullets and blade made, so she pivoted towards the back, taking on the men (half a dozen, then eight, then twelve- how many had been pulled together for this strike?) that were pouring in from that direction. Spinning, swiping with the labrys, firing the gun until the ammo ran out. And no time to reach for a reload, between the constant stream of attackers and her having to be so much more careful than she use to be not to get hit.</p>
<p>She fucking hated being mortal sometimes.</p>
<p>This is what she’d meant when she said she’d have to retire. She was already slower than she should be. Fractions of a second, but fractions that would add up at some point to a mission failing. Somebody getting hurt. Somebody innocent getting killed. Her getting killed.</p>
<p>She shifted back to one side, twisting out of the way of a bullet (<em>case in motherfucking point, Andromache</em>) instead of pressing forward like she wanted to, and got knocked to the ground by a tackle coming from the other direction. “Fuck,” she yelled out involuntarily, kicking the guy away, but unable to fend off the three that took his place. “Fuck- fuck you! What-”</p>
<p>“Stand down,” one of the men ordered, his voice almost robotic through his helmet.</p>
<p>Yeah, she was going to go ahead and ignore that. She needed the attention on her, just a few minutes more, just so they wouldn’t-</p>
<p>“Stand down or we shoot her,” the voice commanded again. He hadn’t been talking to her at all, he’d been talking to Nicky. Who was surrounded by bodies, both dead and alive, still fighting. He whirled around at that though, and even in the seconds Andy decided she’d rather get shot than have them use her against Nicky, or have them find Yusuf, it was just enough time for Nicky to see her on the floor and hesitate.</p>
<p>Which was enough time for them to take him down too, the butt of a rifle slamming his face to the floor. Weapons kicked away carelessly. He was dragged over to Andy, both of them brought to their knees in front of the team leader. Both of them bleeding and glaring, as the man moved over to their table, obnoxiously casual even in tac gear and a visored helmet. </p>
<p>He picked up the flash drive still sitting by Booker’s laptop, waved it at them. “They put tracking tech in most of the lab’s hardware a few months ago. In case of corporate espionage, we were told.” The was a smirk in his voice, and Andy wanted to chop his whole fucking head off. “Or any thieving, really.” </p>
<p>“You want it? Take it,” Andy snarled. “We couldn’t make any sense of it anyway. No buyers. Just take it and go.” Maybe she could play it that way- like they'd only been there the second time and stolen a drive. They had nothing to do with-</p>
<p>“Oh we will,” the man pocketed the drive, then came to stand over them. “Just as soon as we get that other thing you stole from us.” And then he looked over their shoulders.</p>
<p>Nicky cursed in a few different languages, ferocious, vicious, pulling at the men holding him in place, even as Andy tried to turn, tried to-</p>
<p>There was a muffled sound, a yelp, then crying, behind them. “No. <em>No</em>. Don’t you fucking dare-” she tried fighting them off too, as another man came out from the back, holding Yusuf tight with both arms as he struggled. Nicky immediately switched languages again, calling out to him softly as Yusuf stared back at them through his tears and tried to reach for them. All but begging them to help him, keep him safe. Like they had been every day he'd known them. Not understanding why they weren't doing that <em>now</em>. They tried, they <em>tried</em>, and Andy refused to think about the last time and last person she'd struggled like this for, but they could only get a few words out to him before a tranq dispenser was placed against Yusuf’s arm and the trigger pulled. “You <em>motherfuckers</em>-”</p>
<p>They were both fighting as Yusuf was carried out- carried <em>away </em>from them, right in <em>front </em>of them- and Andy didn’t give a shit about any bruises or strain this would leave her with. </p>
<p>The fucker in charge stood there and waited as half the men left, forced her and Nicky to hear Yusuf’s crying and calling for them go quiet, to hear as a van’s doors opened and closed, as the engine turned over. As the retrieval team, with Yusuf, sped away. Hearing her own heart hammering so loud in her chest it started to sound like war drums.</p>
<p>He made them sit there for awhile longer, watched them struggle some more without saying a word, and then he moved, drawing his gun back out and swinging it between the two of them. “We’re not taking him back to the same place, so you know. Completely different location, extra security. And so much more medical equipment.” She heard Nicky’s shoulder pop out of its socket, then pop back in, as he jolted and fought even more desperately. </p>
<p>Andy wasn’t sure it was possible to glare any harder than she was. She was getting so many new wrinkles to her skin lately. And she earned every goddamn one around her eyes right now. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die,” she said slowly, carefully enunciating each word. “Like I haven’t enjoyed in a very. Long. While.”</p>
<p>“Really?” he took a step closer to her. “We’ve got you outnumbered and outgunned, lady. And your wounds don’t seem to close up like some other people’s. So what exactly do you think you’re going to-”</p>
<p>The shots rang out in quick succession, hitting him square in the forehead, through his stupid fucking visor. The men holding her in place went down next, Nicky’s too. They both turned and rolled, grabbed the nearest dropped weapon, started shooting as Nile and Booker each came in from a doorway, taking out the rest of the men. </p>
<p>Everything was finally quiet, still, for a few seconds, before Nile dropped her gun, running for the bathroom. “Yusuf-!”</p>
<p>“No, Nile,” Andy sucked in a few extra breaths, winced, let Booker help her up to her feet. “They got him. They already got him.”</p>
<p>Nile stopped halfway, turned and punched the wall, then took a few deep breaths herself. “Then let’s go. They have, what, a fifteen minute head start? We need to-”</p>
<p>“There’s a secondary location,” Nicky said quietly, kneeling down to search the bodies, very much not looking at the rest of them. </p>
<p>Booker looked around wildly for a moment, before his eyes landed on one of the downed men. Who was still breathing, trying to slip away. Booker knocked him back to the floor. “Where are they going?”</p>
<p>“I won’t-”</p>
<p>Booker pressed his boot into the man’s shoulder, directly over a gunshot wound, ignored the man’s choked yell. “Where?” </p>
<p>“I can’t just-”</p>
<p>He pressed down harder, added the barrel of his gun to the man’s throat. “Tell me where they’re taking the kid, or I promise you I’ll let you live just long enough to beg me for death.”</p>
<p>“No-”</p>
<p>Another gunshot cut him off, the man slumping to the side, dead. Andy just watched as Nicky lowered his gun. “The leader had a GPS device.” He sheathed his sword, grabbed a few more guns to add to a holster already strapped across his chest. “Call Copley.” He tossed Andy the keys to the Humvee. “We’ll make the plan in the car.”</p>
<p>Nobody questioned, nobody looked to Andy for confirmation. Nobody need to. She was already out the door on his heels anyway. Fuck strike teams. They were better. And out for blood.</p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>Despite what some literary clichés would have had him believe, the next twenty-seven hours didn’t pass in a blur for Nicky. He wasn’t in a fog, or detached, or stony and silent waiting for Andy to point him at a target. No, he was very much <em>there</em>, where Yusuf wasn’t. Very much aware of every tick-tocking second slipping away, every second Yusuf was not with them. </p>
<p>He stuck close to Nile for the most part, just as he had at the beginning of this mess. Or maybe she was sticking close to him. Putting just as much effort into being there for Nicky as she had been in blaming herself for not being there when Yusuf was taken, and somehow still- or yet again- for getting killed and coming back in front of the strike team during that first recon. He understood, of course. He could relate. Painfully. He maybe needed her a little bit right now for that reason, like she needed him.</p>
<p>Andy and Booker had no such time for guilt. They were vengeance and logic in equal measure, planning the op via speakerphone with Copley as they took turns- one driving, the other cleaning weapons over a towel spread on their lap in the passenger seat. Nile and Nicky inventoried the rest of the supplies- food, medical, the stuffed dog Nile had grabbed at the last second just in case- all the while keeping an eye on the little blinking dot on the GPS, calling out directions as it moved, waiting for it to settle, waiting for them to get close enough for it to fix on one location.</p>
<p>It took twenty-seven hours.</p>
<p>And now they were all flat on their stomachs on the top of an incline, studying the lab. It was a fortress, walled and barbed wired in. There were barracks on one end, which meant the dead bastard back at the house had been telling the truth- a lot more security, enough that they needed to be housed. Nicky felt his jaw clench so tightly the pain of it lanced past his teeth and through his ears.</p>
<p>“And you’re sure,” Book was quietly, under his breath, lips barely moving, “that we shouldn’t call her? We’re already down one, we could use another-”</p>
<p>Andy gripped the binoculars tighter, but otherwise didn’t react. “I’m sure. She’s not ready for missions yet. And I don’t think she’s stable enough to be trusted around a child.” She glanced at Nicky for a fraction of a second, just long enough for him to nod his agreement, then back to the fortress. “She wouldn't want to come back until we're all sure. We’ve got this. Nile and Nicky, make your way to the lab. Getting Yusuf out of that building is your only job. Booker and I will plant some distractions, find the main hub, and wipe this place the fuck out.” They had a new flash drive, one specially made by Copley with enough viruses to get rid of all their data, and Booker had enough C4 to flatten half the compound. </p>
<p>There was a fire exit on the northeast corner. That’s where Nile and Nicky were set to enter. Nicky’s focus was still razor-sharp, still very present, and he put all of his sight on that. Not exactly tunnel vision, but more mission mode than he'd been in a long while. </p>
<p>And he would have started moving but for Andy stopping him at the last second, grabbing him by the back of the neck. He closed his eyes for it, going still once again, and leaned into the contact. “We’ll get him. He’ll be okay,” she murmured, just for him. Nicky blew out a half-steady breath through his nose, nodding again, offering a smile that was probably as weak as hers, as the group split. Reassurances in the last few days had gone from ‘We’ll get Joe back’ to ‘We’ll get Yusuf back,’ and he wasn’t sure what to make of the change.</p>
<p>He and Nile scaled the wall and got to their entry point in a well-rehearsed formation, silent and undetectable. He kept watch on her six while she got them in, using a combination of Copley’s faked key card and her own growing skill at picking locks. “In,” she muttered a few seconds later, and Nicky backed up into the doorway after her, not turning until the door was firmly- quietly- shut behind them. And then stopped.</p>
<p>Something was wrong.</p>
<p>“Definitely wrong,” Nile said, as thought she’d heard him. The regular lights for the building were off- too soon to have been Andy and Booker’s work- and the fire alarm lights were flashing in the stairwell next to them even though no siren or bell could be heard.</p>
<p>“Somebody triggered an alert,” he guessed as they rounded the first corner. He couldn’t see or hear anyone. No security, no scientists, no four-year-old child. No one.</p>
<p>“How did they know we were here?” Nile asked, readjusting her grip on her rifle. </p>
<p>Nicky didn’t answer. But did the same with his own.</p>
<p>They spun around the next corner, and Nicky- for the first time in maybe four hundred years- stumbled on his own feet. It was a bloodbath. Four, five, six men that Nicky could see. All of them cut down. One literally, though he couldn’t tell with what. The rest shot, and he could see one of the men was missing his gun. </p>
<p>“Jesus,” Nile breathed out. “Someone else got here first? Competition? Or a double-cross?”</p>
<p>“Could be all of the above for all we know,” Nicky grunted out, taking whatever ammo left that he could find. “We need to find Yusuf before whatever did this does.”</p>
<p>That brought her back to the mission, and she deftly caught the reloads he tossed her way. “Lab is supposed to be up one floor. Closest stairs should be up ahead like thirty yards.” </p>
<p>“I’ll take point,” he headed that direction, eyeing the bodies one more time as he stepped over them, trying to figure out just what- “It’s a scalpel.”</p>
<p>“What is?”</p>
<p>“The one that isn’t shot. Wounds are from a scalpel.”</p>
<p>“Shit,” Nile’s voice went tight, but she didn’t say any more. She didn’t say the obvious- a scalpel probably came from a lab. Like where Yusuf was most likely being held.</p>
<p>Another corner, another two bodies. But this time a slight blood trail, and it led in the same direction they were going. There was the sound of a struggle up ahead, a fight, a yell cut off by a gunshot. “Nile.”</p>
<p>“Yep.” She pulled her second gun free, held both, as he pulled his sword free with his left hand. They made the next turn together.</p>
<p>And it was another bloodbath, but ongoing this time. A few men were down, signs of a flash grenade having gone off, but two figures were still grappling with each other on the other side of the smoke, barely lit by the neon red exit sign behind them. Too smoky to make out specifics, but Nicky kept his gun up, trained, ready. Ready for some sign that-</p>
<p>The smoke cleared for a moment, just long enough for Nicky to see a man in body armor get a shot in at the other, hitting him in the side, shirt immediately torn and bloody from the bullet. And that moment clear of smoke allowed Nicky to see it was a medical scrubs top, and the wound wasn’t as bloody as it could have been. <em>Should</em> have been, for any mortal body.</p>
<p>He yelled something, he wasn’t even sure what, he wasn’t even sure the language, but with his gun already raised all he had to do was pull the trigger and the man in body armor went down in a spray of blood against the wall. The second man, breathing hard, also fell back against the wall, propping himself up and turning in their direction. A scalpel held up defensively.</p>
<p>Nicky was already running through the smoke, leaving a startled Nile behind. “Joe!”</p>
<p>Joe fumbled with the scalpel, letting it drop from his shaking hands. “Nicky...?”</p>
<p>He vaulted over that last dead man and pulled Joe- fully formed, fully adult- into his arms. “Fuck,” he gasped out, uncaring that his sword and gun clattered to the ground. “You- are you, you’re-?” he ran his hands up and around Joe’s shoulders, arms, his torso, taking in each and every splash of blood, every disappeared wound (he was healing, he was himself, thank God).</p>
<p>“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Joe wasn’t quite doing the same, just holding onto Nicky’s face with both hands, staring at him almost wondrously. “I’m-”</p>
<p>“Joeohmy<em>God</em>,” Nile made it through, holstering her guns. She grabbed at whatever spot she could find not already being manhandled by Nicky. “You’re you again, right?”</p>
<p>He nodded, breathless, gazing back and forth between the two like he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing them. “It’s all... fuzzy,” he waved a hand at his head. “Everything hurts, feels like every bone in my body broke and re-healed at the same time, and- and I don’t...” he paused to catch his breath, grabbed at the straps of Nicky’s vest with his fingertips just to hold onto him. “Did that really... happen?”</p>
<p>Nile laughed, a short, hysterical, everything, laugh. “Yeah. It did. Jesus.” She glanced back at the bodies Joe had left in his wake. “I feel like this is ‘mission accomplished’ and we can get the fuck out of here now. Path cleared, yay team. Nicky?”</p>
<p>Nicky was having a hard time responding, still staring at Joe, still wanting to double check that every piece of him was healthy and whole, but he shook himself free as the building suddenly rocked from an explosion. Booker's C4. Mission mode. Right. “Let’s get out and get to the checkpoint. No reason to stay in here a minute longer.” He brushed a hand along both of Joe's as he reluctantly let go of Nicky's vest. “How fast are you able to move?”</p>
<p>Joe shook his head, gratefully accepting one of Nile’s guns, checking the ammo, reloading, checking the sight. “Won’t know until I try." Another breath. "Race you?”</p>
<p>He should scold him for that, he really should, but he smiled instead, picking his sword and gun back up off the ground. “Nile, take point. I’ll hold onto the bounty.” </p>
<p>Nile and Joe both grinned, at each other and at him. “Objectifying me in my hour of need,” Joe sighed dramatically, but stuck close to Nicky as they started to move out. He was wobbly to be sure, and Nicky kept one hand out and light against his back in case he needed it, but he managed to keep up with Nile’s pace as they made their way out the exit and back up the incline past the walls and barbed wire.  </p>
<p>“Oh thank fuck,” Andy visibly deflated upon seeing them, bracing herself against the side of the Humvee. She reached out and clasped the back of Joe’s neck, just like she’d done with Nicky before, and brought their foreheads together. “Fuck. You good?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Boss,” Joe leaned up and kissed her cheek softly, then grinned. “Why? Don’t I look good?”</p>
<p>Andy smirked but took her time pulling away, wiping blood off his face with her thumb, and shoved him towards the back. “I think I liked you better when you were too shy to talk to us.”</p>
<p>“Too soon, Andy,” Nile was smiling too as she grabbed the passenger seat, taking advantage of claiming shotgun while everyone else was still standing around staring at Joe. “Way too soon.”</p>
<p>Joe laughed, his eyes bright and almost giddy, euphoric with relief, but he still needed Nicky’s help to climb into the backseat, his bones and muscles sore and still recovering from... from re-growing. Nicky climbed in after him, then decidedly busied himself with storing his gun and connecting his seat belt, allowing Joe time to turn to his other side, to Booker.</p>
<p>And therefore Nicky didn’t have to give them any unwanted attention when Joe put his arms around Booker and hugged him tightly, pressing his face into Booker’s shoulder. Or when Booker, after the smallest of hesitations, hugged him back, his eyes closing in relief. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Joe whispered so quiet Nicky could barely hear, probably too quiet for the women up front. “I’m sorry. If- if it was... if<em> I </em>was-”</p>
<p>“You weren’t,” Booker cut him off. He patted his back a few times, cleared his throat, pulled away. “You weren’t, Joe. It was," cleared his throat again. "It was good.”</p>
<p>Joe looked up at him, searching for something, and Booker was just barely able to maintain eye contact long enough for Joe to find whatever it was, smile almost shyly, and then take the attention off him. He turned back to Nicky instead, lifted Nicky’s arm and pulled at him so he was almost draped over Joe, like Nicky was a coat he was attempting to try on. Nicky let him, welcomed it, pressed in even more. “How much rest will you need?” he asked, burying his face in Joe’s hair, inhaling the scent that had been missing from his life for too long.</p>
<p>“Day or two,” Joe guessed, his voice muffled with an involuntary yawn. “Just need all my insides to settle. Do we need to bug out? I can sleep in the car.”</p>
<p>“That’s not real rest,” Nicky countered, already looking up to meet Andy’s eyes through the rearview mirror. “Where do we-”</p>
<p>“I’ve got another place not so far. Four hour drive, this time of night,” she said. Already heading in that direction.</p>
<p>Nile pulled out her phone. “I’ll get some groceries delivered. Gimme the address.” </p>
<p>Nicky went back to Joe, tracing the bullet hole in his shirt. “How long have you been... you, again?”</p>
<p>Joe was quiet for a few seconds. “A few hours, I think. Maybe less? It was hard to track the time at first. There were two- no, three- injections and then,” he waved a tired hand at himself. “Presto.” He sighed, turned to face forward in the seat, but still leaning heavily into Nicky. “If I never hear another bone cracking and resetting for a hundred years, it’ll be too soon. Can you all promise me? No broken bones for at least a hundred years?”</p>
<p>Booker snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes, and Nile immediately launched into the story of Andy breaking her arm the first day they met, and Nicky… Nicky just let himself drift a little, for the first time in days, close his eyes, run his fingers through Joe’s hair, hear Joe breathe his deep, deep breaths around the slight tremors he wasn't as good at hiding, and feel okay for awhile.</p>
<p>“So I gotta ask,” he could sense Nile turn around to face them, breaking the silence after about an hour. “Do you remember anything? From when you were Yusuf?”</p>
<p>He felt Joe go very still- not tense, not upset, just thinking. “Some? Feelings, some vague ideas. Flashes of things. Chocolate. Playing in the garden. You made up stories from the Curatola book.”</p>
<p>He opened his eyes because he knew that would make Nile grin, and he wanted to see that after so many days of her wracked with guilt. And there it was, the smile that was maybe second only to his husband’s as far as pure loveliness and love. Nicky smiled himself, leaned his head down to rest against Joe’s. </p>
<p>“Anything else?” Nile asked, completely fascinated.</p>
<p>He could feel Joe grow bashful again, but still tempered in playfulness. <em>This was what Yusuf was growing up to be.</em> “Yes, but I don’t want to embarrass Booker by saying nice things about him.” </p>
<p>“Merde,” Booker groaned, rested his own head against the window, as far from the rest of them as he could get. </p>
<p>“You were very well-behaved for him, Joe,” Andy said, almost offhand, so innocent and thoughtful.</p>
<p>“Don’t you start-”</p>
<p>“More than you are as an adult, actually,” she continued as though Booker hadn’t spoken.</p>
<p>He groaned again. “Next time one of us is a toddler and needs to be rescued, we’re taking two cars. I’m driving myself.”</p>
<p>Nicky let the others laugh and continue teasing. He just stayed with Joe. Touched him, held him close, watched him as he finally stopped shaking and relaxed. And allowed himself do the same. </p>
<p><br/>***</p>
<p><br/>He missed Arwa. </p>
<p>And what a guilt-inducing trail of thoughts that led him down. Joe hadn’t thought of her- not this vividly, this longingly- in centuries. She was always a part of him in many ways- the way he brewed his tea, the way he tended towards bright colors and soft fabrics, the way he loved Nicky with all his heart- but the real, tangible, defined shape of her... When exactly had that left him? When had he <em>let</em> it leave?</p>
<p>There was a hole in his gut cut out in her shape now, and he missed her so much he could feel every centimeter of it.</p>
<p>Joe was sure this was... well, natural was maybe not the right term. Life hadn't been 'natural' since the eleventh century. But maybe understandable, yes, after everything that had happened. (But acknowledging that didn’t make it go away, did it?) He sat with the others, all of them in a sort of exhausted, well-fed pile in the living room of this new house at the end of this unbearably long week, finally back with his family the way he wanted to be, and all of a sudden he could see her. </p>
<p>He saw himself running into her kitchen after playing out by Nasr’s stall at the market, Arwa and Yosra cooking and laughing together. Yosra was already in the midst of turning and reaching for him with a cloth to wipe the ever-present smudges of dirt from his face, shaking her head, always full of fond disapproval and with a lecture at the ready. </p>
<p>And Arwa was always right behind her ready to sneak him a treat when Yosra wasn’t looking. Always with that smile on her face, both encouraging and knowing, the crinkles around her eyes. Always so happy to see him, to talk and laugh with him, sing with him, draw with him, teaching him where to find the joy in...</p>
<p>It was like seeing something in technicolor for the first time after nothing but black-and-white, so real and bright an image, after many, many years had sanded away the defined lines of it. And it burned so sharp, that hole in his gut, that he almost started choking. Hid it well enough, but Nicky was still the one to catch it, of course. Without saying anything he wrapped an arm around Joe’s waist and pulled him in closer. </p>
<p>Joe let himself be pulled, turned and rested his head against Nicky’s chest, let the feeling of safety, solidity, this family, permeate and surround him... and then let himself grieve. A part of him had just seen his sisters and Nasr days ago and expected to see them again any minute now. The rest of him knew he wouldn’t. The rest of him remembered how they died. </p>
<p>He supposed he could have waited until he and Nicky went to bed, or excused himself and hid in the bathroom for awhile, but the thought of pushing it away, hiding it, fighting it, as though these feelings were something to be ashamed of... it just wasn’t in his nature. They fought enough things in this life as it was. He wasn’t about to add extra weight to his shoulders, to his mind. He never had. No, it was healthier for him to experience his emotions as they came, let them flow through, and let them go.   </p>
<p>And so he did, letting his tears fall mostly silent, knowing he was getting Nicky’s shirt damp and knowing Nicky didn’t care. Joe thought about Arwa, about how his family then came to the house that day and saved him, and how his family now- Booker, Andy, Nile- took such care of him. How that feeling was always something to be treasured. Always. It was always worth getting overwhelmed with. Because the absence of it... that emptiness was its own kind of death.</p>
<p>Nicky kissed the top of his head and, almost as silent, whispered, “You were so good, Joe. You have to know that. So easy to care for. She would’ve been so proud of you.”</p>
<p>Joe shook his head, clumsily wiped at his face. “There’s this... under my skin. This feeling. Like I’m supposed to see her.” In a whisper of his own, “I want to see her so <em> badly</em>. Talk to her. Show her I turned out okay. I want her to be here.”</p>
<p>Nicky lifted his chin up slightly, pressed their foreheads together. “She was, in a way. All those times you’ve described her to me, I swear this was the first time I really saw her. I saw her in you.”</p>
<p>Joe blinked heavily through the last of his tears, letting it be replaced in his heart by Nile stretching her feet out to tangle with his on the floor, Booker sliding off the sofa to sit close on his other side, Andy pulling her chair closer to watch over all of them. And Nicky, Nicky who was never not there, who was never not an endless marvel to Joe. </p>
<p>“Have you ever drawn her?” Nile asked.</p>
<p>Joe turned to her, startled. “I...” he stopped. Tried to remember the last time he had, the last time he’d been able to picture her well enough to do it (her) justice. “Not for a long while, no.”</p>
<p>She smiled. “Maybe you should.” She nudged his foot with hers. “I’d like to see what she looks like.”</p>
<p>And he stupidly wanted to cry again, at her use of present tense instead of past. Like she knew he was half-drowning somewhere between the two tenses right now and needed a push in one direction or the other. “...You would?” he asked tentatively, squinting over at her a little.</p>
<p>Something shifted on her face, an expression of hers he hadn’t catalogued before, and he realized he must have done something to remind her of his younger self. She shook herself out of it quickly, and the smile on her face was eager, genuine. “Of course.” Then it turned playful, and he could feel his own expression wanting to mirror it. “In my head, she looks kinda like Andy, but actually nice.”</p>
<p>“Asshole,” Andy groaned from her chair, leaning back now that the air wasn’t quite so heavy around them. “<em>Why </em> do we keep you around?”</p>
<p>“Brains and beauty,” she shot back. “You?”</p>
<p>“Asshole.”</p>
<p>Joe basked in the warmth and beauty of it. Sure, yes, it was a particular and specific warmth and beauty to them, but it was never not there and never not <em>theirs</em>. “No,” he joined in, feeling the smile on his face come a bit more naturally, a bit more easily. “Andy is much more my other sister. Yosra. Stern and strong, a very good disapproving glare.” Between all of them, Yosra had been the one to really experience the loss of their mother. She’d been the one to say enough was enough and leave their father's house. Always guided by something sure. Always ready to twist his ear for his silly flights of fancy and bring him back to earth, pushing him to be able to take care of himself <em>just in case</em>. “Arwa was...” he trailed off with another head shake. Arwa had always been different, in his eyes.</p>
<p>Nicky squeezed his hand gently, so Joe picked it up and kissed it just the same, gentle for gentle. “She was special,” he answered for Joe, his voice was still quiet, as though the others wouldn’t be able to (wouldn’t need to) hear.</p>
<p>Joe kissed his hand again, leaned into the comfort Nicky knew he needed. Arwa was the reason he'd been so scared of Nicky in the beginning, and so in love with him after that. Without ever knowing it, she'd taught him how to be the person <em>for</em> Nicky. Joe blinked again, the weight of too many thoughts and too many memories, making it feel like his head might start to topple right off his neck. “I’m... I’m tired. Would it be alright with you to go to lie down now?” </p>
<p>Nicky’s laugh rumbled through his chest and into Joe's. “My love, you’ve been going to bed at seven-thirty every night for the past week. I think I can manage.”</p>
<p>Andy was the one to get up, pull them both to their feet. “Get some sleep, get your bones settled,” she smiled, a little with her mouth and a lot with her eyes. “We’ll wake you if Copley calls.” Copley was running a sample of grown-again-Joe’s blood against the research and data they’d stolen, trying to make sure he was fully himself again, fully cured. “Otherwise, take the time, okay?” She pressed her hand to Joe’s chest, over his heart, and left it there for a few seconds. “Take your time.”</p>
<p>And so he had to make the rounds first, had to hug Andy (reading to him, teaching him how to hide and protect himself, picking him up and throwing him over her shoulder until he laughed), and then Nile (sheets and sheets of paper and colored pencils, her soft smile offering him chocolate, scooping him up into hugs whenever he ran within arm’s reach), and then Booker (looking at him so warmly and so pained at the same time, keeping soap out of his eyes in the bath, encouraging him to play- just play, just have <em> fun</em>). And tried his best to keep his smile to a normal (no, not normal, but understandable) size as they each hugged him back.</p>
<p>And then the fatigue started to catch up again, and he leaned heavily-happily into Nicky (the first person he saw in the mornings, the last at night, the softest voice and safest place and all the love he packed into every look) as they headed for their room, for the bed. For the nice, soft, just-big-enough-for-two bed.</p>
<p>“I don’t think you’ll be able to wake me if Copley calls in the next eight hours,” he spoke into the pillow he had planted his face into. “Maybe don’t even try.” </p>
<p>Nicky laughed quietly again, perched next to him on the mattress. “I should at least try. What if you suffocate into that pillow?”</p>
<p>His tired brain tried to work out the correct response. “Nope.” Good one, Yusuf.</p>
<p>Another laugh. And then warmth pressed against his side, his back, from head to toe. Nicky draped himself over him, kissed his neck. “I’m very... very glad. That you’re back. With me.”</p>
<p>Joe did move then, turning onto his side to face Nicky, smile as comforting as he could at the suddenly serious tone. “I am too. I wasn’t- I wasn’t anywhere, I wasn’t gone but I wasn’t here. But I know I missed you.” He was already pulling even as Nicky pressed in, and was content to cling to him, let himself drift and sink into the mattress and against his husband. “I missed you.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Nicky’s voice was soft and soothing, and Joe had the tiniest bit of a flash, of that voice getting him out from behind a table, the first kind thing he’d heard after waking up in that lab. “We missed you too.” A huff of a laugh Joe could feel against his neck. “I may even keep the dog.”</p>
<p>“Dog?” He was going a little fuzzy around the edges, tired and happy and safe, but still aware enough for another flash- floppy ears and soft fur. “Oh. It’s- you have it still? Here?”</p>
<p>Both of Nicky’s hands slipped under his shirt, traced up and down his spine. “Nile packed it when we left the last house. In case you- we thought you'd still be young when we found you.”</p>
<p>“You want to keep it?” Joe smiled even as he closed his eyes, the vibrations of Nicky’s voice helping to lull him down even more.</p>
<p>“At one of our houses, maybe. Yes. For the memories. The good ones.”</p>
<p>He hummed thoughtfully, and somehow his fingers were already tangled in the hem of Nicky’s shirt. Not tightly, but just enough to hold on. As he always would. “Are you going to miss having him around?”</p>
<p>He could feel Nicky’s confused frown. “The dog?”</p>
<p>“Me,” he clarified. “Little me. Yusuf me.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Nicky’s turn to hum, contemplating, even as he burrowed in to press a few kisses to Joe’s neck, rest his forehead there against his shoulder. “In some ways. I liked taking care of you. No, no-” he tapped his fingers, anticipating Joe’s response of ‘you always take care of me.’ “This was different. I liked that, I’ll miss that. But I would’ve never gotten over losing you. I’ll miss him fondly, but you? Missing you is agonizing.”</p>
<p>And really, how could Joe not kiss him after that? Maybe not as fiercely as he would have liked, or for as long as he would have liked (forever and ever), but sleep be damned if it meant ignoring Nicky’s lips on his. Sleep be damned, death be damned, anything from the outside world. <em> He </em> was damned if he didn’t have Nicolò.</p>
<p>Nicky leaned up then, as if he’d heard Joe’s thoughts once again, and removed one hand from his back in order to brush out the tangles of his hair. “Sleep now, Joe, I know you need it. Sleep, and tomorrow we’ll work out anything we need to work out.”</p>
<p>It was a solid plan, of course, Nicky’s always were. And yet. “Don’t be worried,” he said, firmly as he could, even as the pull to go under got stronger. “Don’t be worried.”</p>
<p>“Worried?” There was a smile in Nicky’s voice, and a rueful one at that- they never could hide anything from each other. “Why would I be worried?”</p>
<p>“Because I am too,” he mumbled, pulling their bodies impossibly closer, overlapped and interlocking. “But it’s okay. I’ll still be here when we wake up. Still be me.” His forehead dropped to rest against some part of Nicky, maybe his chest, maybe his shoulder, or maybe his forehead- that would be nice and symmetrical. “We’ll be us.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s inhale was quick, in that way that meant Joe had hit the mark, but the exhale was slow and soft. Accepting. Loving. “We’ll always be us, my love.” Inhale, exhale. "Always.”</p>
<p>They were breathing in time with each other, and there was no deeper, simpler thing that Joe loved more than that. He tilted his chin just enough to kiss whatever part of Nicky he was resting against. A promise, an appreciation, love.</p>
<p>Inhale, exhale.</p>
<p>Always.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The end! How weird is that?! Still can't believe I made it through this story, but I'm glad I did and I'm glad you all have been along for the ride. Thanks to everyone who read/kudos'd, bookmarked, commented! I loved all of it so, so much :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Note on language: goes with out saying, but anytime anyone is talking to or with Yusuf, it's in his Maghrebi Arabic dialect. I tried to keep any anachronisms out of it, but if anything sounds too modern just assume it's a modern equivalent/translation of what they're actually saying! Otherwise I can go back and take out all contractions, etc, but I feel like that'd end up a bit awkward to read more than anything...)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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